


Zero to Sixty

by AllDaveKat, br0jangles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Gay Panic, Hitchhiking, Humanstuck, Illustrations, Light breathplay, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Roleplay Logs, Runaway Dave Strider, Size Difference, Underage Drinking, Unsafe Sex, Violence, bigkat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22920346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllDaveKat/pseuds/AllDaveKat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0jangles/pseuds/br0jangles
Summary: Hitchhiker AU. Karkat finds Dave on the the side of the road, and against his better judgement, picks him up.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 79
Kudos: 386
Collections: Dave "Cums His Pants" Strider





	1. I Have A Vape

Karkat has been on the road for hours.

Well, okay, compared to what he’s got ahead of him… he’s only just begun. It’s really only been half a day. He’s barely come up on Texas, and from there, he’s still got two days left ahead of him.

It’s a great gig, honestly. He travels for three days. Lets his employer unload his truck, and load it back up again. Rests for a day. Drives another three days. Same deal. He’s actually kind of ahead of schedule; maybe he’ll get an extra day off if he drives through his breaks.

He sips at his coffee and keeps it in his lap. It‘s ice cold by now, but it keeps him awake, so he’ll be damned if he doesn’t drink it anyway.

The cab of his truck is quiet. He usually listens to podcasts while he’s driving, but his phone died, and he can’t be bothered to plug it in. The silence is just fine, if not tiring.

Coffee…

He’s in Houston now. Maybe he should stop and fuel up. Plug his phone in. Stretch his legs. So much for driving through his breaks, but he’s fucking hungry.

There are a few miles left until the next rest stop, according to the sign on the side of the road, and--

Wait, holy fucking shit, is that a _body_ in the ditch by the road sign??

He hits the brakes so fucking hard, it’s a goddamn miracle that his trailer doesn’t jackknife up into the air and send him careening into the ditch himself. His heart is racing so fast, he’s pretty fucking sure he’s having a heart attack.

When the dizziness subsides, he blinks his eyes open to look again, at the body in the ditch.

...It’s not dead, it’s just… a boy. An apparently extremely stupid boy. Holding an extremely stupid sign. In an extremely stupid place.

What the fuck does _”I have a Vape”_ even mean??

Okay??

Karkat shuts off the engine and piles himself into the passenger seat, to open the door, stand, and fucking yell at this dumbass kid as he hangs out the side of his cab. “What the fuck is the matter with you, you stupid asshole!? What are you doing in a fucking ditch on the side of the road!? Gave me a goddamn heart attack! Where are your fucking parents?”

-

Dave is fucking tired. 

He’s been standing out here for nearly five hours and nobody’s so much as slowed down to take a better look at him, let alone actually offered him a ride. 

Maybe he should have made a different sign. People like vapes though, right? It’s not like he has anything else to offer in exchange for a ride. 

All he brought with him aside from his shitty knockoff Juul was his iPad, and he’s sure as fuck not trading away his only source of income just for a few days of free transportation. Maybe he should have made a sign offering an art trade in exchange for a ride. 

Fuck, too late now. Can’t go back home, gotta just wait and hope that someone with an even worse sense of self-preservation than him will finally pick his dumb ass up. 

His legs are starting to shake a little from standing so long, especially since he hasn’t eaten anything for the past, like… twenty hours. Huh. 

Dave decides he’s just gonna sit down in this ditch for a few minutes, just until he regains his energy. He sets his backpack down and leans up against it, pulling his knees up and propping his sign up in front of himself. His stomach grumbles uncomfortably and he wishes he’d brought something to eat. Wishes there had been any food in the apartment to steal on his way out. 

He’s really getting on a roll with this one man pity party, when he’s suddenly and rudely interrupted by the sound of screeching tires. He looks up to see a semi-truck pulling to a dead stop on the shoulder of the highway right in front of him.

The guy who jumps out of the truck is at least a foot and a half taller than him and probably twice his weight. He’s also yelling really fucking loudly at him, calling him an asshole and asking about his parents. 

What the fuck is this guy’s problem? Why couldn’t he just drive past Dave like every other dickhead on the road, instead of taking the time out of his day to take his obvious anger issues out on him?

Dave stands up, grabbing his backpack and sign in case he needs to run. “What’s it to you, fucko? You tryin’ to be my daddy? Sorry but this ass is closed for the season, I mean yeah I need a ride, but I ain’t that desperate yet.” 

He gives the guy his best sneer, trying to make himself look bigger and tougher than he knows he is. For the first time in a while, he wishes he had his sword.

-

Karkat narrows his eyes dangerously, disgusted by the insinuation. “You’re going to get yourself fucking killed out here,” he shouts. He’s angry, but it’s partly because… he’s worried? Now that he’s gotten a better look at the kid, he looks… oddly familiar. Pulls a little at his heart strings.

But why? Karkat has definitely never met him before. But for some reason, he suddenly cares a whole fucking lot about this dumbass suicidal douchebag’s wellbeing. What the fuck.

He needs to go. He _really_ needs to go, or he’s going to get behind schedule. And he’s still fucking hungry.

This kid looks hungry, too. Ragged, even.

…

He rolls his eyes and slumps his shoulders a little bit. What is the matter with him? This is a very, very bad idea. But if he doesn’t pick the kid up, someone else will. Someone who might not have as good intentions as he does. Someone who might take that open-season daddy talk a little too seriously.

“Get in, if your sorry ass needs a ride that fucking badly,” he growls, as he flips the boy off. “I’d tell you I won’t hurt you, but something tells me that you don’t fucking care. So.” With that, he climbs back in the cab and into his own seat. He leaves the door open, and he already regrets it.

-

Dave stands frozen for a moment, wondering if the guy is fucking with him. They _had_ just been yelling insults at each other, after all, and he’d flipped Dave off while offering him a ride. But the door stays open, and the truck doesn’t pull away. 

He quickly snaps out of it and climbs up in the cab before the guy can change his mind.

He settles into the seat, holding his backpack in his lap, and takes a look at the inside of the cab. The first thing he notices is how spacious it is in here, it’s practically as big as his room at home. Or, what used to be home, anyway. 

He cranes his neck to look around his headrest and is surprised to see a small bed and a mini-fridge tucked away behind the front seats. The whole space is remarkably clean and tidy, hardly a speck of dirt or dust anywhere, and no fast food wrappers or beer bottles on the floor like he’s used to seeing in Bro’s pickup. 

It’s actually cozy as fuck in here. 

He turns back around in his seat, fidgeting with his backpack straps, feeling awkward all of a sudden. The driver guy doesn’t seem like he’s about to attack him or anything, but Dave definitely feels like he made a poor first impression and should probably try to smooth things over a bit.

“Uh, thanks. For picking me up,” he offers. “I’m Dave, by the way. Pretty sick ride you got here, I had no idea these trucks had beds in ‘em. Kinda just assumed you guys all slept in your driver’s seat every night and had permanent back pain from it.”

-

Karkat can’t say he’s surprised when the idiot actually climbs into the truck. How stupid can one guy possibly be? He might as well have just threatened to hurt the kid, saying _”I won’t hurt you”_ like some kind of freak would. And he still. Got. In.

He is woefully underprepared for a fucking babysitter’s job. He doesn’t have kids. He doesn’t _want_ kids. A bigger, more self aware child is _not_ what he needs.

If this _Dave_ could even be considered self aware. RE: he was found half-dead in a literal ditch and climbed into a stranger’s car after getting yelled at by said stranger.

“Where are you going?” he asks, gruffly ignoring the introduction. _Dave_ doesn’t need to know what his name is. No attachments to be made here, absolutely not. “I was about to stop to eat. Then I’m headed to California.”

Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that. The last thing he needs this moron tagging along all the way to fucking California. He doesn’t even want to take him along for the next few hours, let alone _days._

-

“I’m actually trying to get to California, too,” Dave lies. He doesn’t give a shit where he ends up, actually, as long as it’s at least a few hundred miles away from Houston. 

He continues, “I’ve got a cousin in L.A. who I’m planning to stay with. He’s like this bigshot movie producer and he’s got some set design work that he’s hiring me on for.” Also a fucking lie. Dave has no plans, nobody waiting for him, definitely no job lined up anywhere. 

“I’m an artist, I mostly do commissions of furries and shit right now, you know, whatever pays the bills, but I’m hoping if I work on a movie or something I can get my name out there, start making some real money.” 

There, at least that part was mostly true. Maybe too true, he probably shouldn’t be running his mouth at a stranger like this, but he kind of can’t stop himself.

-

Wow, even more personal information that Karkat definitely did not fucking ask for. Amazing. So not only did he let some random kid into his truck, but the kid doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up, either.

And his worst fear is confirmed. Dave wants to ride all the way to California. Is he going to talk the whole way there, too? Fuck.

Fuck his life, apparerntly.

Well, he could always kick the guy out. It’s not like he’s _obligated_ to take care of him. Just because he’s a walking disaster with apparently no direction and is definitely too young to be going to L.A. alone doesn’t mean it’s Karkat’s fucking responsability.

...It’s not.

He heaves an exaggerated sigh. The next sign for the rest stop tells him it’s less than a mile away now. “I hope you’re not lying about having contacts. L.A. is rough for adults with established careers. Let alone…” he side eyes Dave, a wary scowl painted on his face. “...furry artists?” It sounds suspiciously like he cares, which he doesn’t, so he stomps it out with the addition of a doubtful scoff.

Every second that passes has Karkat’s stomach tying in tighter knots. Something is screaming at him to stop and tell Dave to get lost. But that weird flicker of familiarity stops him.

He’s too fucking old for this.

When the exit approaches, he slows, turns down the ramp. He pulls into the truck lot, and stops. He turns to give Dave another look. It’s definitely not stern or fatherly. “I don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay in here, because I don’t fucking trust you. You look like a goddamn grifter.” He makes a shooing motion with his hands, signaling for Dave to get the fuck out. “I’ll meet you back here in 20, if you’re really going.”

He’s not sure where that last bit comes from. Is he trying to convince Dave to stay? It’s _none of his fucking business._ It doesn’t matter what Dave does. It has nothing to do with him.

He turns in his own seat and opens the door, dropping the several feet to the ground without using the step. He waits until Dave does the same, then locks his doors.

-

Dave guesses he can’t really blame the guy for calling him a grifter. He did find him sitting in a ditch on the side of the road begging for a ride. 

He makes sure to grab all his shit, including his shitty sign, as he hops out of the cab, just in case the guy decides to leave him here.

He looks around the parking lot. There’s a fuck ton of trucks here. Guess that makes sense, considering it’s a fuckin’ truck stop, but it still looks kind of surreal. He’s never been to a place like this before. 

There’s a couple of fast food restaurants as well as a gas station. Dave checks his phone, it’s just after six. Would be time for dinner if he had any money. He finished up a commission last night that he’s supposed to get twenty bucks for, but the commissioner hasn’t sent him the money yet. 

He refreshes his Paypal app just to double check, but nope. No food for Davey today.

The smell of burgers wafts through the air, and his stomach cramps up with an intense hunger pang. He hisses, hunching over slightly at the pain. Fuck. He hopes the truck driver didn’t see that, he doesn’t want him thinking he’s sick or diseased or something. He really doesn’t need this guy to have more reasons to rescind his offer of a ride. He feels like he’s already pissed him off just by talking, but he’s not sure what else to do. Talking’s pretty much his only move. 

He waits to see where the truck driver’s going so he can follow him, maybe decrease his likelihood of getting abandoned here.

-

Karkat tries not to notice… he really tries not to fucking notice the way Dave stumbles over himself as he gets out of the truck. But it’s kind of obnoxious and obvious. And accompanied by the loud growl of his stomach, well, he supposes it’s a good thing they’ve stopped to eat.

And, well… He can’t exactly be mad at Dave for following him, because there’s really only one way to go. The food and the restrooms are all in the same place. And honestly, to someone who doesn’t know any better, it would be impossible for Dave to pick out Karkat’s truck in the sea of other trucks.

Way to make yourself into an asshole, Karkat, way to go. He would have gotten lost and not been able to go anywhere, let alone home.

He gets in line to buy his food, and is unsurprised when Dave still follows him. He lets several long, awkwardly silent moments pass, before letting out another heavy, annoyed sigh. “Do you even have any money?” he asks. It comes out like an insult instead of a genuine question, like he’d be disgusted if Dave were poor. Even if he doesn’t mean it that way. He’s been there before.

And it’s not like everything else out of his mouth hasn’t sounded exactly the same way. But maybe he feels a little guilty about almost accidentally abandoning this kid in the rest stop. The least he can do is buy him dinner if he doesn’t have any money.

Yeah, that’s why he’s going to do it. Yeah.

-

Dave jumps when the trucker suddenly asks him if he has money. He was so focused on following the guy around and trying not to get lost, that he didn’t notice they were already standing in line to buy food. God, it smells fucking fantastic in here, Dave’s mouth is watering and he has to swallow before he answers.

“Uh, no, I’m a little short on cash right now. I’m not really hungry anyway though. Just following you so I don’t get lost like an idiot. There’s so many other huge buff guys around, I could lose track of you in the crowd way too easily.”

He hopes he can hold out without food until his commissioner pays him, hopefully by tomorrow at least. He glances around the room, maybe he can snag some discarded fries from a table or trash can or something. He doesn’t need much, just something to ensure he won’t fuckin’ pass out from low blood sugar or something embarrassing like that.

-

Karkat raises an eyebrow at _”huge buff guy.”_ He had never really considered himself to be ‘buff.’ Sure, he’s got a light workout he tries to keep up with-- it’s basically a job requirement. His body would give out on him if he didn’t, after sitting around for endless hours on end the way he does.

“Huge,” though, okay, he can give the kid that. He is kind of huge.

Of fucking course Dave is broke, though. “How do you expect to _’make it big’_ in Hollywood if you can’t even afford to eat on your current workload? Fuck, never fucking mind, I don’t care.”

When he gets up to the counter, he’s irritated all over again that he can’t just let this shit go. At least they know him here, well enough, and the angry bite to his words doesn’t even phase the employee. “Two number sixes. Two Large fries. Two--”

He stops to turn a suspicious glare on Dave. “Are you going to make me stop to piss every five minutes if you drink a soda?”

The employee _does_ notice the addition to Karkat’s party. He looks between the two of them, a few times, and jesus fuck, does it look weird for him to be walking around like this with some young kid?? Yikes.

“Two cokes, got it. Anything else, Karkat?”

Karkat bristles at the question, turning his full attention back to the worker. He grinds out a _no_ and fishes out his wallet to pay. If his face is hot, it’s because he feels like he’s been caught doing something bad. Is picking up hitchhikers bad?? Maybe it is when they’re little boys.

Fuck, this is all so stupid.

-

Dave’s heart sinks for a moment when the guy scoffs at him for being broke, he’d kind of been hoping he’d offer to buy him some food. Dave could for sure pay him back once he got his commission money. 

Then the guy turns to him and asks if he’s gonna piss every five minutes if he drinks a soda. Oh, shit, is he buying him dinner? Dave had assumed the double order of burgers and fries was just for the trucker himself, he certainly looks like he could put away that much. 

“Uh, no, no way, I’ve got a bladder the size of Jupiter, man,” Dave says quickly. “I could drink three sodas and probably not even have to piss for, like, six hours. I’m the king of holding my piss.”

He should probably stop talking now.

Then the cashier calls the trucker guy “Karkat,” what the fuck, is that really his name? 

Dave can’t help but smirk as he follows the guy to the pick-up counter to wait for their food. “So your name’s Karkat, huh? Isn’t it kind of ironic that a guy who drives trucks for a living has the word 'car' in his name? Hey, maybe you should get a cat to live in your truck with you, call that cat 'Car-cat' too. Be funny as shit. You should be takin’ notes right now, man, I’m full of great ideas.”

-

Karkat’s shoulders go tense as he realizes that Dave knows his _name_ now. Not that it’s extremely important or anything, but… There goes any hope of keeping things impersonal.

And the tension quickly curls up into elastic irritation, wound tight and ready to snap at any second. Yelling at this kid in the middle of the rest stop wouldn’t look very good on him, though. So he digs his nails into his palms and grits his teeth.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” he asks. “Why don’t you try saying thank you, instead of insulting me to my face? _Thank you, Karkat, you’re so kind for buying me dinner out of the kindness of your pure fucking heart even though I’m incredibly annoying and we don’t even know each other.”_

His arms are crossed over his wide chest and he’s giving Dave a hard glare. Even as the employee at the end of the counter hands him his food, he snatches the paper bag without breaking eye contact. Well, shades-to-eye contact. What’s up with that, anyway? What is he trying to hide, exactly?

Well, he just looks like a douchebag, and he _is_ a douchebag, so it fits.

He takes his own drink as well, and starts off back toward the truck. Dave can keep up, he’s sure. He doesn’t look back, though. Maybe he’s a little bit hurt about being made fun of. Just a tiny bit. It doesn’t matter though.

-

Dave grins. This guy is too fuckin’ easy to rile up. Just because he bought him a burger doesn’t mean Dave owes him his life or anything, Jesus. 

He grabs his drink and half-jogs after the trucker. He follows him back to the truck and climbs up in the cab.

“Fuck, you walk too fast,” he huffs. “I was _gonna_ thank you, if you hadn’t ran away from me like a fuckin’ weirdo. Anyway, here’s my official burger acceptance speech: Thank you Mr. Karkat, you’re so kind, I’m so very grateful, please let me suck your dick for the pleasure of having you buy me a shitty burger and fries on this fine night at this romantic truck stop. If it weren’t for you I would be scrounging food out of the trash and giving myself dysentery. There, was that grateful enough for you?” 

Dave pauses to drink his coke, sucking it obnoxiously loudly through his straw. It might not be AJ but damn, it tastes like a gourmet meal right now to his malnourished ass. 

-

Karkat only gets a few precious seconds of peace alone in his cab, before Dave is climbing back up into the passenger seat. His exasperated sigh is cut short as Dave interrupts him to _keep talking._

Well. To thank him. Sort of. In an extremely gross and off-putting way.

“Why do you keep talking like that?” he asks, raising a thick brow. He hands Dave his food and takes a satisfying bites of his own. After he swallows, he keeps going, “Are you… are you like, nervous that I’m going to take advantage of you or something? Because I’m not. Not only is that a revolting thing to do, but I’m not interested in men. Let alone annoying little boys.”

Okay, _”little boy”_ might be pushing it. He can’t really tell how old Dave is, what with the sunglasses covering up half his face, but he at least… doesn’t look like a child. He looks old enough to not warrant him filing a police report on a found minor. But still. Not exactly in the range Karkat would find attractive.

...he’s staring. Stop staring, what the fuck.

He quickly looks away, stuffing another bite of food in his mouth. Hopefully Dave didn’t notice, jesus fuck. Staring like that doesn’t exactly support the _”I’m not going to molest you”_ message he was trying to send.

-

Dave eagerly takes his food from Karkat. He unwraps the burger, bites into it and moans loudly at the taste. _Fuuuuuck_ , food is so fucking good. 

He reminds himself to eat slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. That had happened once or twice before after going this long without eating, and it sucked and didn’t need to happen again. He deliberately chews on his first bite for a long time, then swallows before answering the trucker.

“What, is my flat ass not good enough for you?” he smirks. “Don’t worry your old grizzled dick about it, dude, I’m just playin’. I don’t swing that way either, don’t take everything I say so serious, goddamn.”

That statement is maybe not entirely true. Dave hadn’t actually been intending to hit on the guy, he was just talking shit, but now that he’s been called out on it, he can’t help but notice that Karkat’s, uh. Not a bad-looking guy. Huge burly arms and chest, thighs like fuckin’ tree trunks, and frowning dark eyes. 

Pretty much exactly his type. 

If he has a type in guys, anyway, which he’s not even fuckin’ sure that he does. 

Dave sighs and pushes those thoughts away. This is absolutely not the time to be examining his confusing, fucked up probably-not-straight-but-he’s-not-sure-what-to-call-it-yet sexuality. It’s definitely not something he needs to be sharing with a trucker he just fucking met, anyway.

“So,” he changes the subject, “how long have you been doing this truck drivey thing for? Do you like it? Do you have a family, wife and kids, anything like that? How old are you, anyway? Do you own this truck or does it belong to your company? Do you have any pets?” 

-

The barrage of questions hits Karkat one after the other, like brick after brick to the chest. Some of them are relatively innocent, while others dig a little too deep. Who the fuck does Dave think he is, prying like that?

“Again, I ask you. Do you ever shut the fuck up? Why do you even care?” He gives Dave a suspicious look, as he sticks a few fries in his own mouth. He lets his distaste hang in the air for a few moments, before sighing.

Maybe he’s being too hard on the kid. He actually seems… nice. As reluctant as Karkat is to admit that. He hasn’t actually done anything wrong, besides talking way too damn much.

… “I’ve been driving for a long time. Fifteen years, or so. I’m almost forty. No family. No pets.” he pauses between each bit of information, still hesitant. But it’s an olive branch, nonetheless. Maybe if they’re going to spend the next two and a half days together, he should try to make it a little less miserable.

That clarity only lasts for a few short seconds, though, because now he’s narrowing his eyes at Dave hands, which are currently wiping crumbs on his pants, and consequently all over his fucking floor. He snaps his eyes back up to Dave’s, sporting a deep frown. “And the cab _is_ mine. So try not to make such a fucking mess, or you’re going to be scrubbing it yourself before I drop your ungrateful ass off.”

-

Dave stops wiping his hands on his pants at the death glare on Karkat’s face. What, does the guy think he carries a handkerchief around with him or something? He doesn’t see any napkins lying around so he just sucks the burger grease off his fingers off one by one, then wipes his hands on the inside of his t-shirt. Good enough. 

“Hey, as long as you get me where I need to go, I’ll bend over and scrub every inch of this cab for you. Just promise you’ll try not to swoon at how adequately I wipe burger grease off your floor.” 

He should probably stop trying to push Karkat’s buttons like this, but the guy’s just making it so damn easy. Plus it’s not like he’s been any more polite to Dave than Dave’s been to him. Guy definitely has a mouth on him, that’s for sure. 

And he’s forty, huh? Old fucker. Dave can’t even imagine being that old. He kind of assumed he’d die before 19, actually, but here he is, still breathing. 

Dave finishes his soda, and yeets it into the trash can tucked behind Karkat’s seat. He misses by several feet, and sheepishly unbuckles himself to throw it away properly. He sits back down. What to do now. Hmm. He flicks on the radio, clicking through several stations until he lands on a horribly ironic trashy cowboy song.

“Ah, the music of my people.” He leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the dashboard. He wishes he had a stick of straw or something in his mouth to complete the picture. Gotta stay entertained somehow, right?  
  
-

Karkat is just as disgusted, if not _more_ disgusted watching Dave wipe his hands on the inside of his own shirt. Is Dave just… going to keep wearing that now? Does Dave even have a change of clothes with him?

Come to think of it, Dave is packed pretty lightly. One backpack? For a trip to L.A? He--

He doesn’t need to think about that, because Dave might not even _make it_ to L.A. at this rate, if he keeps pissing Karkat off. “Get your filthy fucking feet off my dashboard. What is the matter with you??”

If Karkat weren’t such a _responsible driver_ he would be knocking Dave’s feet off the dash himself. But he keeps both hands firmly planted on the wheel. The music _grates_ in his ears, the twang of it _almost_ as unbearable as Dave himself.

He forgot that his phone is dead. No podcast can save him from this hell.

The olive branch he just offered is about to go straight up Dave’s ass.

“And turn that shit off. It’s distracting. Do you want to die?”

Dave reluctantly puts his feet back on the floor. Damn, this guy’s touchy as fuck. He’s never met someone like him, who just says exactly how they’re feeling at all times. Hells of fuckin’ uncool, but whatever, Dave guesses he can get away with it considering how gigantic he is. He guesses Karkat doesn’t get people messing with him all that often, he can probably go around telling people exactly what he thinks about them and not catching any shit for it. 

He snorts. “No, I don’t want to fucking _die_. I sure as hell wouldn’t bother hitching if I was suicidal, that’s for sure.” Whoops, probably said a little too much there. Uh, okay, play it off like a joke. “Cause, uh, Houston’s such a craphole, you know? I could have just stayed there and died of sheer fuckin’ boredom, probably.”

He decides maybe it’s in his best interest to stop talking so much before he reveals things he maybe shouldn’t. Things that might make a reasonable person start asking questions, like “Why are you actually leaving home?” and “You don’t really have a cousin in L.A., do you?” and “How the fuck did you get that giant scar on your chest?” 

Dave pulls his iPad out of his backpack so he can start drawing. He doesn’t have any new commissions lined up, but he can always work on practicing anatomy. The better quality dicks he can draw, the more money people will pay to see them attached to their fursonas’ crotches or whatever.

-

Karkat definitely catches the way Dave deflects on being suicidal. But Dave shuts it down immediately and sinks into his iPad, so Karkat doesn’t say anything, but…

Is Dave’s home life bad? Or… _was_ it? Was he being hurt? Is he running away from home? Does he even care where they’re going? Come to think of it, Dave only admitted to going toward L.A. after Karkat already said that’s where he’s going. That’s fucking suspicious as fuck.

And holy _shit,_ he’s glad that he’s the one that picked Dave up, and not some freak. Dave probably would have taken a ride from _anyone._

That’s… sad. And he has no way of knowing if any of this is even true, if he doesn’t ask and Dave doesn’t tell, but… It still gives him a little more sympathy toward the kid. Not knowing where he came from makes it easier to have pity.

Dave sitting quietly for once also makes it easier to have pity.

The awful country music is still playing though, and that’s not a thing that can continue to happen. He flips through the stations a few times, but it’s distracting to keep pushing the buttons, and he doesn’t like anything that’s playing.

With a defeated sigh, he addresses his passenger. “Dave. Will you grab my phone and plug it in? Please.”

-

Dave sits quietly, focused on drawing a dick and balls as viewed from behind/underneath a pair of furry ass cheeks. 

He’s trying to improve at drawing more complex poses. He sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth, concentrating hard. It’s kind of tough drawing in a moving vehicle, but he used to draw in his notebooks while riding the bus to school last year, so he’s fairly used to it.

He’s always liked drawing for the way it makes his brain tune out everything else, lets him hyperfocus on one task and forget anything he might not be wanting to think about. Just concentrate on the lines and shapes, getting the shading right on the underside of the dick right there, rendering the hairy balls to be as realistic as possible.

He’s so focused that he startles slightly when Karkat asks him to plug in his phone. Almost forgot where he was for a second, fuck. He looks around and sees an iPhone lying in the center console tray, grabs it and plugs it into the charger hanging from the dashboard. 

“There ya go, see, I can be useful and considerate. Best road trip partner ever,” he says. “Here, unlock your phone for me so I can play us some of my sick mixes. Do you have Spotify?”

-

“...Your _what?”_ Karkat asks. He wasn’t prepared for Dave to ask to control the music. It’s Karkat’s fucking truck, who does Dave think he is? Either way, he has to give Dave his password if he ever wants to get to his podcasts. He’s trapped.

Touché, asshole.

“I don’t want to hear your shitty mix tape, don’t be difficult,” he says. He clearly doesn’t understand what _”sick mixes”_ are. “The passcode is 765589. Don’t make me regret telling you.”

Hopefully Dave has the decency to not touch anything he’s not supposed to. Not that Karkat has a bunch of nudes in his photo gallery or something. But it’s still… private. Damn, maybe he shouldn’t have just told Dave his password.

“Yes, I have Spotify, and you’re going to play what I tell you to play.”

-

Dave blinks in surprise at Karkat just telling him his phone passcode. Why is this guy trusting him with that information? He guesses he just doesn’t want to take his hands off the wheel, but still. Dave lived with Bro for 19 years and Bro’d never told him a single one of his passwords. 

Dave types in the phone passcode and when it works, quickly commits the number to memory. He isn’t intending on necessarily using it for anything, but he’d be an idiot not to hang onto that bit of information. You never know.

“Hey, come on, you’ll love my mixes, give it a chance dude. Here, check it,” he says, opening the Spotify app and playing his most recent song. 

The familiar music that plays through the cab speakers makes his fingers twitch, wanting to reach for his turntables. His chest aches unexpectedly when he thinks about how he had to leave them back home, but he quickly shakes off the feeling. He’ll be able to get new turntables, maybe, one day. 

Anyway, it isn’t like he really had a choice. No point in bitching about it, even in the privacy of his own mind.

-

Karkat heaves an irritated sigh when Dave insists that he give the music a shot. He makes it halfway through an angry dismissal before music is already playing. It cuts him off with another huff, his shoulders going straight up around his ears.

It’s some stupid techno bullshit, and Karkat opens his mouth again to tell Dave to turn that shit off, but then-- is that Dave’s voice?

Uh.

Wow.

He shuts his mouth and listens for another second. Or a few seconds. It’s still not exactly something Karkat would choose to listen to on his own but it’s… impressive? He guesses. He doesn’t know what makes good techno music different from bad techno music. But Dave’s voice…

Is nice… when it’s not working as hard as it can to be annoying.

He doesn’t say anything, his brows furrowed with a deep set frown on his face. He doesn’t want to admit that it’s good, because objectively, he still hates it, but he can’t exactly… tell the kid it’s bad.

Eventually, he clears his throat and opts to just… change the subject. “I’m on episode six of InfoWars. If you want to... play that...”

-

Dave watches Karkat carefully as the song plays. He sees him open his mouth to protest and close it again just as quickly as the vocals cut in. He thinks, maybe… Karkat likes it? Or at least doesn’t hate it. Not that Dave cares what this guy thinks about his music, but still. Feedback from strangers is constructive and all that.

He’s slightly disappointed, but not surprised, when Karkat asks him to change to one of his precious podcasts. Then he doubles over in silent laughter at Karkat’s choice of podcast.

“InfoWars? Are you fuckin’ serious? You listen to Alex Jones? Like, for real, actually listen to him and not in an ironic way or anything? Holy shit, wait hang on, I have the perfect--” Dave clicks on a meme song he made, that uses Alex Jones’ famous line “turning the frogs gay” over and over, endlessly repeating.

“This?” He asks Karkat, gleefully watching for his response. “This is the guy you want us to listen to, right now, in this car, right here, today. Holy shit dude, I knew you were a little unhinged when you picked me up after cussing me out, but I didn’t know you were a full on conspiracy aficionado. Fuck yes, do you believe in aliens on earth and Bigfoot and all that shit? Do you watch Ghost Hunters?? God, I can’t wait to tell John I got picked up by a fuckin’ Infowarrior.”

-

“Holy shit, shut the _fuck_ up for once,” Karkat bites. His hands are stiff around the steering wheel and some… horrifying bullshit plays over the speakers of his cab.

His cheeks are hot, because he doesn’t _like_ being ridiculed like this, by someone half his age, over something Dave doesn’t even fucking know about. “I just told you I’ve been driving for fifteen years, didn’t I? You think I haven’t run out of shit to listen to by now? Fucking brat.”

Whether or not Karkat actually listens to it unironically is irrelevant. It keeps him awake, when he’s driving in the middle of the night, and that’s what’s important. Dave doesn’t need to know that he gets so heated over it sometimes that he starts yelling to himself alone in his cab in the dead of night.

Or that he actually admires how outspoken the guy can be about things most people consider to be batshit crazy. He’s authentic. Something Karkat wishes more people would be.

“Play something else if you’re going to be a little shit about it. I have a whole fucking library of podcasts.”

-

“Pfffhaha okay fine,” Dave relents, hitting pause on the meme song. He doesn’t _actually_ want to get thrown out of a moving truck today. 

He opens Karkat’s podcast library and scrolls until he sees one called Read Me Romance. This oughta be good… He clicks to resume playing on the episode.

The narrator’s cheesy, trying-to-sound-sensual voice poured from the speakers. Dave let it play for a few moments, and then snorted. 

“What kind of cheesy bullshit is this? You seriously have the most embarrassing taste in media, man. Don’t worry though, it’s okay for a guy as big as you to listen to romance shlock, you can get away with it cause you’re so damn huge, nobody’s ever gonna give you shit for it. Except me, I guess.”

-

Karkat tries to find peace in the brief moment of silence after the song is paused. Thank fuck for small mercies. It’s like Dave was born just to piss Karkat off. Some kind of bullshit ass backwards star crossed destiny of insufferable douchebaggery.

But then one of his audiobooks starts playing, and, oh. Does Dave read romance novels, too? Of all the things for Dave to have picked, this is… unexpected. Maybe they could actually have something in common.

He listens to the paragraph play out, trying to remember exactly what had happened when he last left off with it. He’s pretty sure that Jenna and Claire just went to visit Michael at his clinic--

Dave cuts him off with, of course, another smart remark. He shoots Dave a glare before turning his eyes quickly back to the road. It’s getting dark out now, and he needs to pay attention. It’s probably getting pretty close to quitting time, but he doesn’t want to think about how much worse Dave will be when the vehicle is stopped.

“You keep telling me how big I am and insulting me in the same sentence. Like you think I’d start a fight with anyone who looked at me wrong, but not you? For some reason? What would make you different?”

He wouldn’t actually hurt Dave… or anyone, for that matter. But he can’t wrap his head around the fact that Dave apparently doesn’t have a shred of self preservation instincts. So he makes it sound as threatening as possible. Just to see if Dave will back off.

“You think you can turn on enough of that ’lovable idiot’ charm and I won’t retaliate? News flash, asshole, you’re not that cute. So shut your mouth and listen to the fucking book.” A pause, another frown. “It’s a good book so far…”

-

The threat in Karkat’s tone stops Dave in the middle of formulating a new insult. For the first time since getting into this guy’s truck, real fear twinges in his gut. 

Fuck, what’s he fuckin’ doing, shit-talking a stranger he’s literally only met _today_ , who he knows next to nothing about? For whatever stupid fucking reason, he’s let himself feel actually comfortable around this guy, almost as if he’s known him for years, just slipping into easy banter like he would with John. But Karkat’s right, they don’t know each other and Dave is no different to him than anybody else. 

Dave isn’t an idiot, he knows hitchhiking’s a bad idea. Being at the mercy of whatever deranged pervert picks him up off the road… it’s pretty goddamn risky. He wouldn’t be doing it at all if he had another choice. You know your home life’s fuckin’ bad when getting into a car with a stranger is your safest option.

Dave shrinks back into his seat, subtly trying to make himself less visible. The tape plays on in the background, but he’s not taking in a single word of it. Every minute that passes makes him more anxious that he’s really screwed the fuck up, and is about to pay for it soon. 

-

Karkat is surprised to find that his little tirade… works. Huh. Well then, that’s that.

Except… it’s not.

The air in the cab slowly thickens to the point that Karkat can feel it sitting heavy on his skin. It makes him tense, makes him grip the wheel a little harder. Did he… did he take it too far? Did he scare Dave? As a “big guy” he can be kind of intimidating when he’s not careful.

Well shit.

He glances sideways at Dave again, probably looking for longer than he should before turning back to the road. The kid is, of course, slinked up in his seat, all but literally curled in on himself. Way to pull on a guy's fucking heartstrings. Goddamnit.

It’s Dave’s fault for being insufferable. Anyone else wouldn’t have put up with him for as long as Karkat has.

...And anyway. It doesn’t matter how Dave feels. Karkat doesn’t care.

What he does care about, is the book that he’s no doubt missed several pages of at this point. He’s not even listening to it. He’s been too distracted by-- oh, fuck it. He can’t act like it doesn’t affect him. He’s not putting up with this sad sack bullshit for the next several days.

“Hey, are you hungry again?” he asks. “I think I’m about to pull over for the night, pretty soon. There’s snacks in the fridge. But there will be more takeout at the rest stop, too.”

-

Dave freezes and intentionally does not flinch, does not look up, when Karkat glances over at him. The trucker watches him for a long moment that feels like a fucking hour. Then he looks back at the road and Dave breathes again. 

What’s he thinking about? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He really, really fucking hates not knowing what someone’s thinking about him. Especially if they’re clearly upset with him.

But then Karkat asks if he’s hungry. Is he… trying to apologize? Fuck, was it that obvious he was freaking out? So much for his trained poker face. Bro would be fuckin’ ashamed. Doesn’t matter what Bro thinks. 

“Uh, yeah, I could eat,” Dave says, thankful his voice sounds less shaky than he feels. “I’m pretty much always hungry.” Too much information, Dave, God. He shuts up again.

-

Karkat tries not to be as relieved as he is when Dave actually answers him. He’s not sure why part of him was worried he wouldn’t but… Doesn’t matter. Dave is speaking again.

“Always hungry, huh?” he asks. “Better get to work on your… what was it? Hairy porn?” He spares Dave another quick, sideways glance. He’s putting effort into smiling, like he’s just made a funny joke, but really he’s just trying to disperse some of the gross tension in the cab.

Suddenly, though, as he catches sight of his own bare forearm, he realizes… _He’s_ hairy. Maybe that wasn’t the most appropriate joke to make, fuck. Fuck everything, he is _not good at this._ It’s a good thing he never had kids of his own.

His smile drops immediately and he glances at the GPS mounted on the center council. Seven miles to the next rest stop. He can do this.

Jesus, he probably can’t do this.

In an attempt to back pedal, just in case Dave _didn’t_ think what he said was weird, he tries to turn it into actual advice. “You’re not always going to have me around to feed you, and L.A. is rough. Do you sell your music, too?”

-

Dave thinks the trucker might actually be attempting to joke around with him now? Talk about whiplash. He’s glad, though, that the horrible tension in the air has all but dissipated. 

He tries not to choke on a laugh when Karkat mentions “hairy porn,” and looks up at him somewhat incredulously, because seriously, is this guy for real? Who the fuck hasn’t heard of furries. Maybe he’s joking?

Then Karkat glances at him sideways with a real smile, his eyes crinkling up at the sides. 

It’s the first time Dave’s seen any expression on his face other than a frown. Dave’s heart skips a beat. Oh, goddamnit. Fuck. 

He notices, again, how Karkat’s upper arms and chest are like a fuckin’ barrel. How his bare forearms are hairy and muscular, how his rat’s nest of a hairstyle fades into adorable scruff at the sides of his chin. Okay, this is fine. He just... he is just really fuckin’ into this guy. That’s it, that’s fine. No harm done, he’s allowed to _look_ , isn’t he? 

Welp. Dave’s pretty sure he’s just decided he’s not straight, anyway. Cool, awesome, definitely a great time to be thinking about this shit.

He tries to listen to what Karkat’s saying, something about him feeding Dave? Fuck, Dave really likes that mental image, of him sitting helplessly, tied up to a chair, and Karkat having to feed him and take care of him. Fuck, stop it, pay attention. 

“Yeah, I sell my music, I mean mostly it’s on Soundcloud and Spotify so people can just go download it or listen if they feel like,” Dave explains. “And I told you, don’t worry about me, I’ve got a job lined up with my cousin, remember?” 

Dave isn’t sure why, but he feels bad lying to Karkat all of a sudden. It’s fine, he reminds himself, he doesn’t give a shit about you or what happens to you. He’s just a stranger giving you a ride, don’t get fuckin’ attached, you idiot.

-

“Right,” Karkat says, like he definitely does not believe what Dave is saying. But even if it _is_ true and he _does_ have a job lined up, that… still doesn’t mean anything. How much does the job pay? How many hours is he going to be working? Does he have a place to live? Does he--

Okay, he’s getting carried away again. He might be trying to be nice, but literally none of that is his business still. Dave is old enough to make his own decisions.

Well. At least it looks like he is. Probably.

“I’m just… you know. Trying to look out for you, I guess. I don’t want to find you along the side of the road in another ditch the next time I come to California.”

He shrugs, like he didn’t just say something super morbid, and tries to shake it off. He tunes back into the podcast then, and he… definitely missed a lot. How disappointing. This part of the book is pointless, if you don’t even know how the characters got here.

A road sign tells him the rest stop is less than a mile up the road. So, with a sigh, he says, “We’re almost there, if you want to turn the audio book off. I wasn’t really listening, anyway, and I’m going to have to start it over later.”

-

Dave’s heart squeezes in his chest when Karkat says he’s trying to look out for him. His voice sounds… soft. And kind. Fuck. Dave carefully swallows down any feelings he may or may not be having, and shrugs.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself,” Dave repeats, trying to convince himself as much as the trucker. 

He’ll be fine. Right? He can always get a job like, in fast food or moving boxes in a warehouse, or something. Tons of people get jobs all the time. Just cause he’s never had a real one before, doesn’t mean he can’t too. 

And until he makes enough money to get an apartment, he can stay… fuck, he has no idea where he’s going to stay. California’s warm, he can just rough it outside for a while, right? 

He knows he hasn’t thought this through well enough, but it’s not like he had a lot of options. He had to get the fuck out of there while he had the chance, while Bro was out of town and not watching his every move. 

He guesses he could have asked to stay with John in Washington, but then he’d’ve had to tell him... everything. And he just. Can’t do that right now. It’s too much. He’ll just figure something else out, maybe some cool idea will come to him on the drive to L.A. 

He turns off the podcast at Karkat’s request, and leans back in his chair, trying not to think about anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's art is by [@Koa_Doodles](https://twitter.com/koa_doodles)!


	2. Five Finger Discount

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw’s for chapter are in the end notes because they're spoilery

Dave dismisses his concerns and shuts off the radio, so Karkat lets it go. He’s not going to push it if Dave says he’s fine. All he really wanted was to clear the air, and it worked. The tension is gone. His shoulders relax. He’s relieved to finally be pulling off of the highway and into a parking spot. They haven’t even made it all the way through Texas yet, and he’s exhausted.

He shuts off the engine and rolls over his next decision in his head. He still doesn’t really want to leave Dave alone in his truck, but he sort of… needs some headspace. He hasn’t spent this long talking to a person in _years_ and he needs some time to chill out. Maybe go for a run or something. Clear his head. Yeah.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back with pizza,” he says. He doesn’t even think to ask what Dave wants before he’s swinging his door open and hopping out of the cab.

The short walk into the building is already a breath of fresh air. The silence is… wonderful. Not that he isn’t, reluctantly, starting to get along with Dave. He just really fucking loves being alone. It’s nice. There’s a reason he does it for a living.

By the time he gets up to the counter, he realizes he doesn’t know what Dave likes to eat. So he just… get a cheese pizza and one with pepperoni. That’ll be fine, and if it’s not, Dave can eat his ass. It’s free food, you’re not allowed to complain about free food. Karkat isn’t even going to eat it until it’s cold, so it doesn’t matter.

It takes around fifteen minutes for the pizzas to finish. He hits the bathroom, and then just sits down and waits. He forgot his phone in the car, which is well enough. He wanted to be alone, right? He doesn’t need it, then.

When the pizza is finally done, he collects it and starts heading back. He climbs back into the cab and sets the pizzas on his seat. He comes around into the back of the cab, to dig through a bag to find a pair of headphones. He finds his cell phone laid up on the dash, and then he’s already climbing back out.

Before he hits the ground, though, he looks up at Dave. “I’m going to be back in a little while. Will you be alright on your own?” he asks. “Just like. An hour.”

-

Dave’s a little surprised when Karkat leaves him alone in his truck, with his phone still plugged into the dashboard, no less. So much for thinking Dave’s not trustworthy. 

He grabs Karkat’s phone, and enters his passcode again, opening the camera app in selfie mode. He pulls a flawless duckface and takes approximately 40 pictures from slightly different angles. He selects the choicest one and sets it as the phone’s wallpaper, which was previously just a blank black screen. So boring. Dave’s face is definitely an improvement, a little treat for Karkat to find later. 

He puts the phone back so that Karkat won’t notice anything amiss. Taps his feet on the ground. Yawns. Decides he wants to snoop around the cab a bit. If Karkat comes back early, he’ll just say he was looking for Tylenol or something, whatever. 

He climbs over into the bedroom area behind the front seats, and stands in the small amount of floor space available. The bed is all made up perfectly, just as tidy as the rest of the cab. He opens a cabinet along the side wall, and uncovers a stack of notebooks. One of them is labeled “Journal,” and he momentarily considers opening it, but decides that’s too much of a dick move, even for him. 

He opens a different cabinet, and finds several boxes of tissues, and a bottle of lube. Oh, shit. His mind immediately jumps to Karkat touching himself, while laying on this bed. Working his dick in his massive hands. God, his dick is probably huge, too-- FUCK. Fuck. No. Dave is NOT going to stand here thinking about this random guy jerking himself off. For one, just, _no_. And for two, it’s gonna start giving him some problems in the pants region if he doesn’t cut it out.

He quickly closes that cabinet and decides snooping time is over now. He’s seen… too much. 

He sits back down in his seat and waits for Karkat to get back, pulling out his iPad again to check his messages. Nothing from Bro, thank God, though he wasn’t supposed to be back for a few days anyway. He wonders if he’ll even bother messaging him when he notices he’s gone, then shuts down that train of thought. 

John sent him a photo of his dad’s latest cake monstrosity a few hours ago, and he shoots back a quick text about how his dad probably just wants to plow Betty Crocker. Let John chew on that one. 

After a little while, Karkat returns with two steaming boxes of delicious smelling pizza. Dave wonders if he’s allowed to eat some. Probably, right? He wouldn’t be buying two pizzas just for himself, would he?

Karkat asks if he’ll be okay on his own. 

“Yeah, I’m a big boy, I can entertain myself,” he answers teasingly.

He waits for the trucker to leave before opening one of the pizza boxes. Fuck yes, pepperoni. He takes a hot slice out, wondering if he should be using a plate or something. Eh, fuck it. Daddy Karkat’s not here to tell him what to do. 

He shoves the piece of pizza in his mouth, burning his tongue and the roof of his mouth immediately. He doesn’t even fucking care, it tastes so good. This is seriously more food in a day than he’s had in, like, years. He finishes off six whole slices before finally stopping. 

God damn. He wishes he could just, like, stay in this truck with Karkat forever. Having someone around to banter with, who buys him food? That’s all Dave really wants in life. 

He puts it out of his mind, though. Moping around about wanting things you can’t have is like, the epitome of being uncool.

-

Dave _says_ he’s a big boy, but is he though? Is he really capable of taking care of himself properly, or did Karkat literally find him in a ditch earlier? Whatever. Nothing is going to happen to him if he stays in the truck, so he keeps the snide comment to himself and just goes.

He jogs off to the side of the lot, where he starts to do warm up stretches. It feels _good_ after sitting in the truck all day long. He has no idea how he spent the first half of his career _not_ stretching. Let alone doing any type of workout. He was just young, he guesses. Bodies are different when you’re young.

He pulls his phone back out of his pocket and sticks his airpods in his ears and-- what the fuck is on his phone screen? He narrows his eyes at Dave’s face, staring in complete and utter disbelief. The _nerve_ of that punk ass child. What the fucking-- _unbelievable!_ What else did he fuck around with while Karkat wasn’t paying attention!?

Fuck, okay, shit, just breathe Karkat. You’re here to calm down, not get worked up again. He can just change his password later, it’s fine. It’s not like the current one has any special meaning or anything, that would be stupid.

He opens his Spotify app and taps the search bar. Before he can get much further than that, though-- there’s _Dave again._ His whole fucking name, right there in the search history.

No self preservation, swear to _god._

How is it that Dave has infected so much of his life in the past few hours??? He stares at it for a lot longer than he probably should, just fucking standing there now, like an idiot, instead of what he came out here to do.

Dave Strider, hm?

For some fucking reason, he clicks it. He just hits shuffle play, and some soft line starts playing, undercut with a pounding beat. Okay, maybe he can run to this.

So he does.

He runs for a solid thirty minutes. And if Dave’s singing voice makes his heart race, he doesn’t notice over the thrum of his exertion.

When he finally comes to a stop, he’s back where he started. His breath comes in heavy pants, and he wishes he would have brought a bottle of water out with him. He can see his truck from where he’s standing, and he’s relieved to see Dave’s head still moving around in there. Good, at least the moron knows how to stay put.

He rolls his shoulders and goes over the next part of his routine in his head. Steps, lunges, push ups, squats. He does as many sets of thirty as he can in the next twenty or so minutes, and by the time he finally stops, he is _gross._ He needs a fucking shower.

He heads back to his truck, and when he climbs inside, Dave is… gone. Fuck. Anxiety makes every single one of his hairs stand on end. Before he can panic, though, he sucks in a breath and tells himself that Dave probably just went to the bathroom. It’s fine, he doesn’t need to worry about it. And anyway, Dave isn’t actually his responsibility, so there’s no reason for that kind of reaction, right?

Right.

Dave’s voice is still in his head though, so he shuts off his music. He grabs a towel and a fresh set of clothes and heads back out. It’s fine, everything is fine. He’s fine, and Dave is fine, and his shower is about to feel amazing.

Dave pulls out his iPad and draws for a while, loses track of time for a bit. 

When he looks back up, Karkat’s doing push ups in the parking lot in front of him. Fuckin’ yum. Wait, uh. Hmm. Fuck. Dave looks away, embarrassed. Then he decides fuck it, he’s nineteen fuckin’ years old, he can look at an attractive man if he wants to. In an act that feels much more courageous than it probably is, he drags his eyes back to Karkat’s form. 

He watches him do several reps of push ups, steps, lunges. Even from far away, the guy looks massive. Damn, he’s gotta be really fuckin’ strong to be able to do that many reps at his body weight. Sweat shines on Karkat’s bare arms, and his face is stormy and intense. 

Dave wonders what he’s thinking about. What music he’s listening to. He briefly lets himself imagine what if Karkat was listening to _his_ music, and his stomach flutters, but then he clenches down on it. He doesn’t like your shit, he asked you to turn it off like immediately, he tells himself. Don’t fuckin’ get a crush on this guy, he literally hates you.

Karkat glances at him through the windshield and Dave ducks his head, pretending he wasn’t watching. He dicks around in the cab for a little longer, then decides to take a bathroom break, maybe poke around the truck stop a bit and see what trouble he can rustle up. 

On the way back from the bathroom, he spots a convenience store and wanders inside. He doesn’t have any money, but he’s pretty good at getting the five finger discount at places like these. He walks to the snack aisle, grabbing a small pack of Doritos, then heads to the liquor section and picks up a bottle of Fireball. He waits until the cashier’s not looking at him, and flashsteps out the door. Easy fuckin’ peasy. 

The sun set a while ago, but there are enough lights in the lot that it’s fairly bright. Dave doesn’t _necessarily_ want to attract attention by chugging a bottle of shitty whiskey in the middle of the parking lot, nor does he really want to get into a conversation with Karkat about whether he’s old enough to drink, or where he got the money to buy anything, so he walks around behind the back of the bathroom block. 

He sits on the ground and leans up against the wall, then cracks open the bottle and takes a nice long swig. Fuck, yes, numbing the pain of trauma with alcohol. Super healthy, he knows, Rose would be very proud. 

He doesn’t have anything to entertain himself with, since he left his backpack and iPad in the cab, so he plays a game with himself. The rules are simple: he takes a drink every time he accidentally thinks about something he doesn’t want to deal with. 

His mind is quiet for a moment, then it jumps to his last strife with Bro, about three weeks ago. Dave touches the place on his thigh where he’d had to stitch himself up because he couldn’t fucking afford to go the hospital.

He takes a drink.

He thinks about John, and Jade, and Rose, and how he’s been lying to them for years about his relationship with his brother. About how none of them actually know the real Dave, and how maybe if they did, they wouldn’t like him.

Another drink.

He thinks about Karkat. Karkat’s face, his thick eyebrows, his gruff mouth, twisted into an unexpected smile. His Paul Bunyan-like body. His hairy arms, and other places he might have hair too. 

He thinks about Karkat holding him, pushing him up against a wall and kissing him. About sinking his mouth down over Karkat’s cock, while Karkat gasps and tangles his hand in Dave’s hair. 

He thinks about Karkat bending him in half and fucking him hard like he thinks Dave’s the most attractive and most obnoxious guy he’s ever met, like he wants to split him in half with his dick and put him back together again all in one breath.

He takes another drink.

And so on.

With about half the bottle empty, Dave starts feeling _real_ fuckin’ drunk all of a sudden. Like, whoa, the world is fuckin’ spinning, drunk. 

He feels good. But he thinks he might also feel kind of awful? He can’t really tell why he feels bad, or good, for that matter. All his thoughts are blurry and sloshing in his mind, and he can’t hold onto any of them. Maybe that’s for the best.

A single desire forms in his mind and crystallizes. He wants to go see Karkat. And he wants to get Karkat to fuck him.

He stands up shakily, bottle in hand, and pockets his uneaten Doritos. Save that shit for later. He walks back to where the truck is parked, but he kind of can’t fucking remember which one is Karkat’s truck. Fuck. He stops walking, stands in the middle of the lot and starts laughing. 

-

Karkat tries to clear his head again as he heads toward the showers. If anxiety creeps up his arms, he stomps it down and forgets about it. Dave is more than capable of taking care of himself and Karkat doesn’t _need_ to know where he is.

His shower is hotter and longer than it needs to be, but fuck if it doesn’t help relieve his stress. By the time he finally steps out, his skin is hot and pink, too. Feels good, though. Paired with the post-workout ache in his muscles, he’s clean and fresh and ready the fuck for bed.

On his way back to his truck, any small bit of fear he still held onto fizzles out when he sees Dave standing in the parking lot. It’s replaced with a familiar annoyance to realize that the idiot has no idea which truck he’s looking for. He tells himself that he’s still just warm from the shower, and he’s not _fond._ Dave’s idiocy is anything but endearing. His helplessness is _not_ charming.

As he comes up behind Dave, a hand comes up automatically to take Dave by the shoulder. His arm settles easily over the length of Dave’s shoulders, in a half embrace he didn’t intend for, but here he is. He doesn’t stop walking, just herding Dave along as he goes. He opens his mouth to say something about Dave’s stupidity, but-- Is that… Does he smell like booze?

He furrows his brows and turns his head down to look at Dave, who is currently having a hard time keeping up. Fuck. “Are you wasted?” he asks, incredulously. Where did Dave get the money for alcohol?? Is he even old enough to drink?

Well, apparently.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” he demands, as he opens Dave’s door and ushers him inside. “Do I need to remind you that you don’t _know_ me? What is _with_ this fucking death wish you have, I can’t even handle it.”

He doesn’t give Dave the chance to respond before he slams the door shut and rounds back to his own door. He climbs in, tosses his dirty clothes behind his seat, because he’s _kind of pissed_ and he can’t be assed to put them away right now. He gives Dave another hard look, one that demands explanation.

Honestly, what the fuck.

-

Karkat appears in the parking lot out of nowhere, like some kind of hot ghost, and lays his arm over Dave’s shoulders. Then he sniffs him and starts yelling at him about being drunk. His voice is growly and sexy, and his body is so warm. Dave leans against him happily, letting himself be shoved into the truck as Karkat continues bitching at him. 

He nearly topples off the seat, but steadies himself before Karkat climbs into the cab. The trucker glares at him solemnly with his eyebrows all scrunched up, and Dave can’t help but start giggling again. He’s just so fuckin’ _cute_. And nice. God, he’s been so nice to Dave this whole time, even though Dave knows he’s been acting like a little shit. Dave doesn’t deserve to be treated nice like this, but Karkat did it anyway, and Dave’s so fucking grateful. He wants to show Karkat how grateful he is. 

He also really, really wants Karkat’s dick in his mouth, like, yesterday. He wants to taste him, wants to feel how big Karkat really is. Wants to hear the noises he’ll make when he comes. 

He licks his lips, shoves his shades up into his hair, and slides down onto his knees on the floor. His hands trails up Karkat’s thighs, and he smiles up at him, attempting to look desirable. 

“Hey, Karkat,” he slurs. “You’re so, so fuckin’ good, man. You’re just a great guy. You know? C’n I, just make you feel good right now? I really want to make you feel so fuckin’ good! Please, can I please, like, go down on you, right now?” 

As he speaks, he lets one of his hands sneak up toward Karkat’s waistband and clumsily grabs at it, trying to figure out how to pull it down.

-

Woah.

Okay, _woah._

"What--" Karkat starts, but he's honestly at a fucking loss. Where is this coming from? Didn't Dave say he wasn't gay earlier? Never mind that Dave looks really good on his knees, and his _eyes--_

Fuck. _Shit._

He's too stunned to respond properly, but he _does_ grab both of Dave's hands in his and pull them away from his body. Against all better judgements, the attention makes his dick jump almost as hard as it makes his heart race. It's just-- it's just been a _long time_ and he's not _prepared for this_ and holy fucking hell, Dave is a _boy_ and _half his age,_ and--

And drunk. Very fucking drunk. Which makes any and all other internal conflicts which definitely are not happening invalid immediately.

"You don't know what you're saying," he says, but his own words are laced with confusion. He tries not to break eye contact, but it's hard to maintain. Looking into those hazy eyes and knowing that his own cheeks are probably red.

He forces himself to let go of Dave's hands. He was squeezing them pretty hard in his panic, honestly, and he doesn't want to hurt Dave. He doesn't want to hurt Dave, and Dave needs to get his face away from Karkat's lap _immediately._

"Get up," he says, forcing his voice to stay steady this time. "You don't really want to do that."

-

When Karkat’s grip tightens on Dave’s hands, it goes straight to his dick and he whines. He struggles a bit, trying to reach for Karkat’s pants again, but the guy doesn’t let him move an inch. Then, unexpectedly, the guy lets him go and tries to say that Dave doesn’t want to do this.

Dave laughs. “Uh, yeah, I really really fucking _do_ want to do that.” He pauses, unsure what to do. Karkat’s not telling him to stop, so it’s okay if he just keeps going, right?

He reaches a hand up and palms Karkat’s groin. He feels the man’s hard cock underneath several layers of clothing and groans, fuck, that’s hot. Did Dave do that to him? Just by kneeling down? He rubs at it, harder, looking up at Karkat’s face, wanting to see the other man’s reaction.

-

 _"Shit,_ Dave, you can't just--" Karkat sucks in a sharp breath as Dave grinds a hand against his dick. _Wow._ He caves for a second, _just a second,_ his head dropping back against the seat.

 _'I really, really do want this,'_ Dave said. It's obviously that he means it too, the way desire swirls together with arousal in his eyes. It compliments his drunkenness well, like a layer of bitter chocolate on a sweet cake. Makes him look sloppy. Easy. Like his mouth is just begging to be stuffed full of--

"Fuck, stop, _stop that,"_ he growls. He shoots Dave a harsh, sharp, undeniably hot and bothered glare and knocks his hands away again. "I don't care what you want. What you need is a bottle of water and a fucking nap."

He can't do it. He can't keep looking at Dave when he looks-- _like that._ It's fucking depraved.

He puts his own hands in his lap to block Dave from touching him again and averts his gaze. This is not exactly how he thought he'd be ending his night. Spurning some kid's advances. Some... unexpectedly attractive kid. With a nice voice and pretty eyes. And a big fucking mouth.

Jesus christ, get it together, Karkat. You're not _that_ desperate, no matter how long it's been.

-

Dave pouts when Karkat knocks his hands away, barricading his dick away behind his jumbo-sized hands. 

He’d just wanted to do him a favor, make him feel good, he doesn’t know why Karkat’s making such a big deal out of all this. It seems to him like Karkat’s eyes are locked onto his mouth, like Karkat maybe wants this, too, but for some reason he’s not letting himself give in the way Dave has. Dave just wants Karkat to cave and grab his hair, shove his dick into his mouth, fuck him, use him.

He opens his mouth to argue, to try and convince Karkat how good it will be, how nice and pretty he can suck him off. 

Then his stomach lurches and the room spins around him. Fuck. 

He clamps a hand over his mouth, pushes past Karkat and leans out the driver’s side door, emptying his stomach onto the ground. He coughs and spits, wiping his mouth on the hem of his t-shirt. 

Ugh. 

He crawls back into the cab, shuts the door behind him, and leans back against it, crowding himself into the space between the door and Karkat’s leg, pulling his knees up to his chin. He feels like crying all of a sudden. 

What the fuck is his problem? He’s on his own for literally one fucking day and he gets drunk, hits on a stranger, and almost pukes all over him _while_ trying to seduce him. Maybe Bro was right, Dave isn’t shit without him. 

He reaches for his shades on top of his head, but they’re not there. Must have fell off at some point. He puts his head down on his knees, pretending he can’t feel the wetness from his eyes soaking through his pants.

-

Uh. Wow.

A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions fly around through Karkat’s mind as Dave pulls away from him. He’s relieved-- he’s a little bit disappointed?? ...He’s worried. That’s a lot of fucking vomit. And there go Dave’s shades, spilling right down into the pile of it. He grimaces as he watches Dave wipe his filthy fucking mouth on his tshirt. Disgusting.

And then Dave is crying, and Karkat is at even more of a loss than before. What a fucking roller coaster, jesus christ. What is he supposed to do right now? What is he supposed to say? He didn’t sign up for this shit.

He’s frowning, but it’s soft. He doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not concerned this time. Clearly this kid is fucked up and needs help. Whether or not Karkat is qualified for that, though, remains the question. He sighs heavily. His boner still hasn’t calmed down, and when Dave is done crying, Karkat is going to beat him for it.

“Dave,” he tries, and he reaches out a hand, but he hesitates. Would Dave even want physical contact? Or would it only invite more weird, inappropriate advances? Hm.

He feels a little weird just watching Dave cry, though.

Fuck it all, here goes nothing. He bends down from his seat and stuffs one arm under Dave’s bent knees and wraps the other around his back. It’s weird, in the height of the truck, but he scoops Dave up and holds him just like that against his chest as he turns into the back of the cab. He sets Dave down on the edge of the bed, sitting up, and then turns away from him again.

He’s back a moment later with a clean t-shirt and an averted gaze. “Change out of that disgusting shirt and lay down. We can talk after you’ve calmed down.”

-

Dave doesn’t struggle when Karkat picks him up. He’s so tired. His throat stings, his stomach aches, and it just feels so goddamn nice to be held. He hides his face in Karkat’s chest and pretends he doesn’t have tears streaking down his face. 

Part of him wants more than anything to be held like this, right here, for the rest of his fucking existence. The other part tells him he doesn’t deserve niceness like this. He’s too fucked up and broken, all he can do is make shitty decisions with his shitty life. He shouldn’t be dragging anyone else into his bullshit, especially not Karkat.

Karkat sets him down on his bed and turns his back, and Dave quickly wipes his eyes, sniffling pathetically. He honestly can’t believe he’s actually crying, the last time he did this he was like… six years old or something. 

He remembers Bro shoving him down the stairs after a strife, telling him to go clean himself up. He had a deep cut on his chest that needed stitching, and he’d tried to ask Bro for help, but received only a thumbs down and a frown in response. He cried in the bathroom later, sewing himself up with clumsy fat stitches using one of Bro’s discarded smuppet-making needles. 

The wound healed after a few weeks, but the puckered scar remained lumpy and ugly, a reminder of Dave’s incompetence. He hasn’t cried since that day. 

Until tonight. 

Karkat turns back around and hands him a (humongous) clean t-shirt. Dave strips out of his own filthy one, and, not knowing where to put it, balls it up on the floor at his feet. He takes the offered shirt gratefully and slips it over his head. It smells like Karkat, clean and soapy and man-smelling, and it swims on him like a dress. He looks ridiculous, but he feels a microscopically tiny bit better.

“What, uh,” he clears his throat. “What did you want to talk about?”

-

Karkat eyes Dave after he finishes dressing, not saying anything for several moments. What in the fuck even just happened? What possessed Dave to get wasted like that in the first place?

Well, at least the vomiting and the crying seem to have sobered him up quite a bit. Uh.

He crosses his arms and gives Dave a _look._ “I think you’re the one who wants to talk about something. What the hell are you doing? Is this something I’m going to have to deal with the rest of the way to California? Or can you pull your shit together?”

He shifts where he’s standing, clearly uncomfortable. This is not exactly something he’s used to. He doesn’t know what Dave needs, or even if he should be the one to provide it. They’ve known each other for all of maybe eight hours, it’s not like they’re going to hug it out or something. And Dave _did_ kind of just make pretty aggressive moves on him. That’s not a thing that stopped being a thing.

At least his body has finally started to calm down. The last thing he needs is to be standing here with a fucking tent in his pants while he’s trying to be serious.

He remembers that he offered Dave a water and never got one, so he does that now. He has to crouch down to get into the little fridge, and he ends up just sitting down on the floor. He ends up below Dave’s eye level when he holds the bottle out to him. “Seriously. Are you okay or what?”

-

Dave takes the water from Karkat, avoiding eye contact with him and looking at the ground instead. He feels naked without his shades on, his eyes are probably bloodshot and puffy, he’s sure he looks disgustingly pathetic. Why is Karkat still being so nice to him? He fucked up so hard, he should be getting his ass beat right now, or at the _very_ least getting kicked out of this truck. 

He twists the lid open and drinks some water, trying to get rid of the nasty taste in his mouth and the lump in his throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he manages, finally, head still bowed down. He takes a couple shaky breaths and then the words just start pouring out in an unstoppable flood. 

“I’m just, fuckin’ sorry for all of this, man. I’m a complete fuck up, I can’t do anything right, I shouldn’t have ever left home. Bro was right, I can’t even take care of myself for one fucking day.” 

He laughs and hiccups. 

“Honestly I should probably just go back home and let him fuckin’ kill me, that way at least I wouldn’t be goin’ around causing trouble for you or anybody else. What the fuck was I thinking, like obviously I’m hot as fuck but that doesn’t mean you want me all up on your dick. You said you didn’t like guys, I should have listened and not just, like, thrown myself at you like an asshole. Also I’m really sorry if I got any puke in your car.”

The room spins again, so he lies down on the bed, still clutching the open water bottle in his hand. His head aches and he closes his eyes tightly, not wanting to see the expression on Karkat’s face.

-

Karkat listens to Dave’s whole little rant without saying anything. Even when Dave is finished, he still doesn’t say anything.

So… wow. Karkat had suspected that something was going on with Dave, but he hadn’t put too much thought into it. Hearing him say things like “I should have just let him kill me” is not exactly a fucking thrill. His heart simultaneously sinks into his stomach and jumps up into his throat.

Hearing that Dave is actually into him, though, and it wasn’t entirely just the booze talking is… something to think about. He tucks that away for later.

Not that he will ever do anything about it. But it sure is there, isn’t it.

He keeps sitting there on the floor by the bed and sighs. “I’ll do you the favor of pretending like I didn’t hear any of that. Get some sleep, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I’m not stopping to every thirty feet to let you void your stomach.” He tries to make it sound light hearted, like he’s only playing the same role he’s been playing all day, but after he says it, he has the feeling it’s only going to sound… bad. Like Dave really is all those things he said and Karkat is nothing but annoyed by him.

He’s confronted again with the choice of whether or not to offer Dave physical comfort. It’s awkward, but he thinks that maybe Dave has never been on the receiving end of nice touches. It sounds like he’s only ever had a reason to flinch away.

So much for forgetting about it.

He reaches out a hand and settles it over Dave’s shoulder before he can second guess himself. It’s not exactly an emotional embrace, but it’s as much as he can offer.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says. He hopes it sounds reassuring, but again, he’s not very practiced with this shit. For all he knows, it just sounds like he’s being condescending. He considers saying more, but he stops before he can.

He removes himself from Dave’s space and gets up. He wants to go to bed, but, well, Dave is in his bed. Looks like he’s staying up for a while. So he turns and slumps back down into his driver seat. He settles down with one headphone in, just in case he needs to hear what's happening in the back.

-

Dave flinches when Karkat touches him on the shoulder, then relaxes into it. Fuck, it feels really nice. He didn’t realize how much he’s been wanting to just be touched. Like, not even in a sexy way, just. Touching. In general. God, Bro would push him straight off the roof if he knew he was thinking like this. 

I’m not mad at you.

How did Karkat know exactly what Dave would need to hear? Dave wants to cry all over again from how fuckin’ nice he’s being, and he refuses to let that happen, so he pushes all thought and emotion behind a wall in his mind.

He rolls over onto his side, facing away from Karkat, and he suddenly feels more exhausted than he’s ever been in his life. He falls asleep after only a few moments, and doesn’t dream of anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw's for chapter: underage drinking, *very* mild dubcon, emetophobia
> 
> art for this chapter by [@Koa_Doodles](https://twitter.com/koa_doodles) 💕


	3. Endless Driving and Podcasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for vomit in the first section (Dave's POV, in red)

A nearly-painful pressure in his bladder is what wakes Dave. He groans and sits up, rubbing his eyes and hissing as his head protests, a thrumming ache springing up in his temples. 

It’s sometime after dawn, and the sky is pinkish-gray. Karkat’s asleep in the front seat, looking uncomfortable as all hell. Fuck, Dave totally stole his bed last night, didn’t he. God fucking dammit. 

Dave climbs up into the front of the cab and quietly opens the passenger side door, jumping down onto the ground. He hurries to the bathroom and takes the longest fuckin’ piss of his entire life. Ugh. He needs water. He needs an aspirin. He needs to never drink again ever in his entire fuckin’ life. He takes a minute to throw up again in the bathroom before heading back to the truck. 

In the daylight he doesn’t have the same trouble finding it as he did last night. Fuck, last night. Dave closes his eyes as memories assault his brain. Trying to blow Karkat, touching Karkat’s dick through his clothes. Dave’s cheeks heat up at the memory. Karkat telling him to stop, then Dave word vomiting all over Karkat after regular vomiting out the door. All that delicious pizza, wasted. Fuckin’ tragic. 

His puke puddle is still there next to the car, and Dave spots his missing shades lying right in the middle of it. Ugghhh, Jesus Christ, that’s nasty. He reaches down and picks them up, then goes back in the bathroom to wash them off with hand soap and dry them with a paper towel. They’re looking a little worse for wear, one of the lenses is scratched a bit, but they’re the shades John gave him, so he puts them back on. Anyway, his head is killing him, and the bright light of day combined with lack of shades is probably not helping with that problem.

He climbs back up into the car as quietly as possible and sits down in the passenger seat, pulling out his iPad so he can scroll through Twitter until Karkat wakes up.

-

Karkat listens for a while, but Dave’s breathing quickly evens out, so he assumes the kid is asleep. It takes him a considerably longer amount of time to get comfortable, though. He listens to an entire episode of InfoWars, and when the next one starts, he’s not even remotely in any kind of sleeping position.

Fuck. Fuck all of this. He’d lay on the floor if he weren’t too fucking big for it.

With a deep set frown, he leans his head back against the seat. He shuts off his phone and keeps his eyes closed, willing himself to eventually just fucking pass out.

He sleeps like shit. He must have gotten at least a good hour or so in, though, because the next time he stirs, he can hear Dave shuffling around quietly beside him. He tries to move a little, resituate and get more comfortable, but as soon as he does, every fucking bit of his body aches. There’s a huge kink in his neck and back, and the movement makes him groan long and loud.

Fuckkkkkkkkk. Goddamnit. He can’t drive like this.

He opens his eyes and stares straight out the windshield, dead eyed, resigned to his new life of pain. He lives in absolute self pity for at least thirty seconds before grunting again and turning to go back into the cab to find some fucking pain killers. He downs two with an entire bottle of water before even bothering to acknowledge Dave.

He comes back up to his seat and pushes open the driver side door, muttering a, “Coffee,” and “taking a walk. You can come if you want.”

It’s grumpy. Noncommittal. But what else can be expected of him first thing in the morning after he spent the last fifteen years in silence?

-

Dave watches Karkat moving around the cab, wincing as he sees him swallow some pain killers. Guilt washes over him, not only did he shit all over the guy’s entire night but he also cockblocked him from using his own bed, so he’ll probably be miserable all today too. Nice going, Dave. 

He feels like Karkat might want some alone time, but he physically can’t resist the invitation to follow him. He shoves his iPad in his backpack and clambers out the door. Coffee sounds fucking amazing, anyway.

He follows a few steps behind Karkat, wanting to stay out of his way and not become even more of a nuisance than he’s already been. 

Karkat’s shirt hangs down nearly to his knees and he thinks he probably looks ridiculous, but he also doesn’t want to take it off anytime soon.

As fucking guilty as he feels, he still can’t help admiring Karkat from behind. His scruffy bed head is fuckin’ adorable, and god, his _ass_ is fucking _fantastic._ Not to mention his arms. Dave can see why Drunk Dave was so adamant about, uh. Gettin’ all up in his business. He remembers the feeling of those arms wrapped around him last night, picking him up and cradling him like a baby. His heart thumps. Fucking stop it, he tells it.

He silently trails after Karkat into the convenience store he lifted from last night. Karkat makes a beeline for the coffee machines and Dave waits around for him to finish, stomach rumbling at the sight of the pastries in a display on the countertop.

Karkat pours himself the largest cup of regular ass black coffee and wraps his hands around it like he needs it to keep them warm on this sixty degree Texan morning. The smell of it alone makes his bones ache a little less, and he sighs with relief.

He catches a good eyeful of Dave for the first time that morning as he passes him on his way up to the counter to pay, and he god damn near does a double spit take. He nearly chokes on his coffee in the effort to swallow it down. Dave is fucking _swimming_ in his t-shirt, and it definitely looks--

It looks _not great._ It’s clearly Karkat’s shirt. Prying eyes could make some very inappropriate assumptions about the situation, and he is not too fucking keen on trying to explain it away. There’s not a whole lot that’s better about _”I let that kid get wasted and puke all over my truck”_ than _”I fucked that kid.”_

He slams his coffee down on the counter a lot harder than necessary before digging out his wallet to pay. Fuck, this is stupid. So much for his morning walk, they are going back to the truck as soon as fucking possible. He’s hungry anyway, considering he didn’t get to eat any of the pizza last night.

He waits for Dave to finish whatever he’s doing, raises an eyebrow as Dave… pays for his own coffee. Well, that’s that, then. If he can buy alcohol and coffee, Karkat doesn’t need to be buying him food, does he?

The walk back to the truck is just as quiet as the walk inside. It’s kind of… weird. Doesn’t Dave usually talk a lot more than this? Like, a stupidly annoying amount of talking?

When they get back inside the cab, he immediately gets out the leftover pizza for breakfast. He doesn’t look up from his food when he finally speaks. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet this morning.”

He wonders how much of the night before Dave even remembers. He hopes at least enough to not be afraid of what Karkat might have done to him while he was passed out. That would be a valid reason for the silence, though it makes Karkat extremely uncomfortable. He hopes he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would take advantage of a drunk person.

He remembers some of the things Dave said, though. _”I should have just let him kill me.”_ He’s not sure he wants to know what all that means. It’s obviously not fucking good.

-

Dave sits in silence, his head still aching, as Karkat devours half a pizza next to him. 

He tries not to blush, thinking about what he was doing last night when Karkat was sitting in that same seat, and he was on the floor between his knees. He remembers Karkat’s hard dick under his palm, and the heady feeling of knowing Dave was affecting him that much. 

He jumps when Karkat addresses him, asking why he’s being so quiet. 

Clearing his throat, he answers, “I, uh, was just trying to be less of an obnoxious asshole than I was last night.” 

He cringes. 

“Not to immediately bring that shit up first thing in the morning. You probably don’t want to be talking about that now. Or ever. Yeah. This is why I was trying not to be talking, right now…”

He shuts up and sips his coffee too quickly, burning his tongue. Blugh. 

“Anyway,” he says, trying to change the subject, “What’s on the agenda for us today? More rom-com tapes and endless driving?” He taps his foot nervously on the floor, looking away from Karkat’s intimidating glare, wishing he wasn’t such an awkward fucking tool.

-

Karkat cringes just a little at the prospect of having to talk about what happened last night. They should. Now that it’s on the table, at the very least, they should talk about how Dave came onto him before the vomit hit the pavement.

But then Dave changes the subject, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Yeah, hate to break it to you, but this is a truck, and I’m a truck driver, and this is my job. Nothing but endless driving and podcasts for the next two days straight. Well, for you, anway. I’ve got five ahead of me.”

He moves to put the rest of the pizza back in his mini fridge, and his next twinges again with sharp pain. He cusses under his breath and sits back in his seat. He closes his eyes for a long moment, willing himself not to be fucking pissed off. He doesn’t want to spend the rest of the day mad about something he can’t change. Hopefully the painkillers kick in soon.

He sticks the key in the ignition and starts the truck up. The rumble of the engine soothes him in a way nothing else ever will. It makes him feel secure. Calm. Normal. His routine is solid, and nothing will ever change that. Even the kid currently sitting in his passenger seat.

He takes another big drink of his coffee, draining the cup in one go, and then shifts the truck into gear. “You can play whatever is in my list again. Just no bullshit, I swear,” he says. It’s easy to slip back into the same kind of banter they had before. If Dave doesn’t want to talk about what happened, then he doesn't either. It’s fine. They can pretend it never happened.

It’s definitely not on his mind, at all, in any way. Not the way Dave’s eyes looked from down on his knees. Not the way his hands felt rubbing on his dick. Not the eager way he asked to please Karkat. None of it. Absolutely not. Didn’t happen.

-

Dave grabs Karkat’s phone up and taps in the password to open it. He smirks a little, seeing his face still set as the background. Dave might not have many redeemable qualities, but at least he’s a funny motherfucker.

He opens the podcast app and clicks back onto the romance novel they were listening to yesterday. He kind of missed most of it due to having an internal freakout, so he rewinds it back a few minutes to where they started. 

The recorded voice fills the car. It’s sort of obnoxious, the cheesy narrator over-acting everything dramatically, but Dave can also see why Karkat likes listening to it. He listens--or, listened--to a lot of podcasts and shit himself back home. It’s nice sometimes just to hear somebody else talking for a while. Makes you feel less like a lonely piece of shit. Not that he feels like that most of the time, or anything, just. Sometimes.

He listens in silence for a while, trying to behave himself. He only snickers a little bit when the narrator talks about Jenna “yearning for Michael’s hot body.” Lol. 

Then the tone of the story changes all of a sudden. It becomes… to use a romance novel word, _steamy._ Basically, sex things are happening. What the fuck. Is this like, legal? Can they actually write this shit in a book? Suddenly Rose talking about her wizard porn novels makes a lot more fucking sense.

Holy shit, Michael just fingered this girl and made her come right on her front porch, before they could even get inside the house. That’s so stupid. Dave shifts in his seat. 

He listens as Michael carries Jenna upstairs, lays her on the bed, eats her out like a champ, and then fucks her. In excruciating, sordid detail. By the time Jenna finishes a second time, Dave’s face is burning hot and he’s got a serious half-chub going in his pants. God fucking dammit, he feels like such a damn virgin, getting affected by a chick’s romance novel like this. But it’s actually really, really hot? Like, he’s still gonna stick with porn, thanks, but. This is definitely not _not_ doing it for him.

Does Karkat really listen to this stuff all the time? He glances over at him, then immediately regrets it as his dick twitches, his mind invaded with the fantasy of Karkat fucking him like these two book characters are doing. He looks away quickly, willing his cheeks to cool down.

-

Karkat is a little peeved that Dave still remembers his password. He should have changed it last night while Dave was asleep, but he was too busy being worried about the little shit.

It's made slightly better by Dave remembering to rewind the tape. He overshoots it a bit, back to part Karkat definitely already heard, but that's fine. He could use the refresher, he supposes.

As the podcast plays on, he becomes so invested in it, he doesn't notice how uncomfortable Dave gets during the sex scene. He kind of honestly forgets Dave is even there. The book is pulling on his heart strings, and maybe a few other parts of him. He sighs deeply when it's finally over, and the next chapter starts to play.

Good shit.

He reaches for his coffee, only to realize that he's already drained it, and frowns. He should have gotten two of them.

"Hey," he says, when he remembers Dave is sitting there. He's being suspiciously quiet again, isn't he? Does he like the book? Ha, and after making fun of Karkat for liking it in the first place. Karma's a bitch. "Will you grab me another water from the fridge?"

-

Fuck, Karkat wants Dave to get up and grab a water for him. 

If he does that, it’s gonna be really fucking apparent that he’s been, uh. Enjoying the story. A lot. 

He tries to think of a good excuse but he can’t. Just gonna hope this baggy shirt is baggy enough to cover Dave’s naughty bits. Or that Karkat will pay attention to the road the whole time and not look.

“Sure,” he says after probably way too long. He climbs into the back, trying to keep his body turned away from Karkat, grabs a water, and sits back down as quick as possible, handing the bottle over. 

Seems like he’s in the clear? 

The next chapter continues playing and Dave inwardly groans. Is this going to be the rest of the trip? Just him sitting next to the hottest guy he’s seen in months, getting endless blueballs from listening to these stupid sex books?

He fidgets in his seat, trying and failing to not listen to the current story about Kate getting absolutely _railed_ by her sister’s fiance, willing his dick to calm the fuck down.

A couple hours later, Dave’s fidgeting for a different reason, which is that he has to piss. Like, pretty fucking bad. 

They’d passed a rest stop about fifteen minutes ago, and Karkat asked if he wanted to use it because there weren’t any for another hour. He didn’t want to make Karkat mad or have to stop for him, and he thought he could hold it longer, but he’s now thinking he may have made a mistake. 

Basically, he’s kind of genuinely worried that he’s gonna piss himself if he doesn’t make Karkat stop the car soon.

“Uh,” he says over the romance novel tape. “Hey, remember how we passed by that rest stop and you were like ‘you should go now if you have to’ and I was like ‘nah bro I’m chill’? Well, it turns out I may have miscalculated the amount of chill I had, things are gettin’ downright heated up in here, if you, uh, get what I mean.”

He glances at Karkat, embarrassed.

“I, uh. Gotta pee.”

-

"I literally just fucking asked you if you had to pee," Karkat says, shooting Dave a look. "Where do you expect me to stop? The side of the road?" There might be some kind of exit he can pull off somewhere, but he hates getting off the highway. It's always a pain in the ass trying to find somewhere to stop and park, it's not fucking happening.

"Can't you hold it?" he asks again, sounding every bit as annoyed as he feels. He doesn't notice the way it makes Dave squirm. He's too busy thinking about not wanting piss all over his car seat. So even as he says it, he's already pulling over. Dave can suck it up and just go behind the truck.

Jesus, this fucking kid.

The truck stops, and he looks over at Dave expectantly. "No pressure or anything, but we are kind of on a time crunch. Go." He shoos Dave away and snatches his phone back in the process.

-

Dave clambers out of the truck gratefully and just kind of ducks behind it so he’s mostly blocked from view of the road. What the fuck ever, it’s just his dick, people can deal. He whips it out and pisses into the grass. 

When he’s finished, he jumps back up into the cab as quick as he can, slamming the door behind him.

“Sorry,” he says when he’s buckled back in. 

They drive another forty miles or so without anything too exciting happening. Karkat drinks a bottle of water. They listen to another few chapters of a book. Dave grabs the Doritos he lifted last night and eats them for lunch.

Then he sees it. 

A huge sign, in bright yellow and blue, plastered onto a billboard. 

_**WORLD’S GREATEST TAXIDERMY MUSEUM, EXIT 142** _

“Oh my god,” Dave turns to Karkat, pointing at the sign. “Can we please please please please please please go to the fucking taxidermy museum?? I swear to god I will never ask for anything again in my entire life holy shit please Karkat please?”

His leg bounces excitedly as he waits for an answer.

-

Karkat groans and immediately says, “No. Absolutely not.”

He glances at the time, though, and then the GPS, and actually… they’re making pretty good time. They could probably afford to stop for an hour, if he drives extra late tonight…

And Dave sounds really excited. And it’s kind of cute-- endearing. Not cute.

And even if Dave’s been a complete and utter shit this entire time, Karkat can’t help thinking that maybe he needs to catch a break for once. Maybe he deserves to have a little fun for once. Someone to throw him a fucking bone.

And Karkat is just too fucking nice, isn’t he? Ugh. At least the meds finally kicked in and his body doesn’t hurt anymore.

“...Maybe,” he finally says. “If I say yes, what will you do to pay me back?”

-

Is Karkat… low key hitting on him? Probably not, right? 

It still warms Dave’s cheeks to think about all the ways he wants to pay Karkat back. He probably shouldn’t push his luck, though, Karkat seemed pretty adamant last night, that he didn’t want Dave that way. Better to keep things not sexually charged.

“I’ll do fuckin’ anything, man.” Dave clasps his hands together, begging. “You want me to get on my knees and beg for it? I fuckin’ will. What do you want me to do? Literally I would kill a man _and_ suck his dick if it meant I could go to that museum. Is that what you want, Karkat? I’ll fuckin’ do it, don’t even think I’m bluffing right now.”

Whoops. So much for keeping this conversation away from dick-sucking, he pretty much just swerved right into that one, didn’t he. Oh fuckin’ well.

-

Karkat’s fingers wrap tighter around his wheel, and he grits his teeth while listening to Dave ramble about sucking dick. He can’t help seeing Dave in his head, on his knees the night before. Eyes so eager and wanting, Lips parted. Hands on his dick.

He can’t make it stop. He walked right into that, didn’t he? Fucking stupid. His cheeks are hot. He doesn’t know what to say. How can he listen to his books with a straight face, but Dave saying anything remotely sexual is suddenly crossing a line?

He wonders what he might have let happen if Dave hadn’t been drunk. He’s not gay… He’s never spent too long thinking about it. Never touched a body that didn’t belong to a woman. But Dave is just…

Irritating, is what he is.

“Stop talking,” he finally settles on. “We’ll go if you just, never say that shit again. Christ, don’t you have any shame?”

-

Fuck yes!!! 

“None at all, my man.” He grins. It’s actually surprisingly common for people to offer Dave favors in exchange for him not talking. 

He is a _tiny_ bit disappointed, though, that Karkat didn’t want him to get down on his knees and convince him another way.

He starts bouncing both his legs up and down excitedly. “I wonder if they’re gonna have any fetuses there? I used to have a preserved seal fetus in a jar, that shit was so fuckin’ cool. I had all these bugs in amber, too, and a taxidermied rat. Gonna have to start up my collection again when I settle down in L.A. and start makin’ it big. Maybe if I get rich enough I can get a whole ass taxidermied person. Is that legal? I don’t think so. Maybe? Idk. But if you’re rich enough you can probably get away with it, right?”

-

It takes another ten minutes or so before they come up on the right exit, and Dave talks the entire fucking time. Karkat doesn’t even need to say anything back, because the kid just keeps yammering on about dead shit and whatever the fuck else he thinks is cool. It’s kind of… infectious. Dave is so excited, that it almost makes Karkat excited too, when he could not give less of a shit about taxidermy.

He takes the exit, and Dave practically starts vibrating in his seat. What a weird fucking thing to be excited about. How does a kid even get into that kind of thing?

He still can’t get a word in edgewise as they pull up into the parking lot. Thankfully, it’s a big enough place that he doesn’t have a hard time finding somewhere to park. He cuts the engine and sits back in his seat, picking up his phone again. He narrows his eyes at Dave’s fucking picture, but unlocks and opens it anyway. He needs to change that soon.

“Have fun. I’ll be here when you’re done. But if you’re not back in an hour, I’m dragging you back out here or leaving without you.”

-

Oh shit, he gets a whole hour in there? Fuck yes.

“Wait, aren’t you coming too?” Dave asks, one foot out the door already. Not that he _needs_ Karkat to go in with him or anything, but he likes his company. He’s actually really nice to Dave, in his rough, odd way, and also he’s fucking hot.

He kinda wants to see what the guy’s like when he’s not in professional truck-driver mode, too. Get him to let loose a little. 

“I’ll buy your ticket, I got paid this morning so I can afford it and everything, it says it’s only $8, see?” He points at the hand painted sign in the parking lot. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” He steps out of the cab and waits, hopping from one foot to the other and smiling at Karkat.

-

Karkat is surprised to hear that Dave wants him to tag along. Won’t he just drag him behind? Karkat doesn’t know anything about this shit, and he doesn’t really have any interest in seeing it.

But Dave is… smiling and… how is he supposed to say no? He’s all bouncy and shit and fucking _beaming_ and just.

God, when the fuck did he get so soft?

Well, if Dave is paying, he thinks, he might as well go inside. Not that he can’t spare eight fucking dollars. But that’s not the point. He could use the walk to stretch his legs. And, yeah. That’s his excuse.

With a hefty sigh, he opens his own door and piles out of the cab. He rounds over to where Dave is still bouncing excitedly, and ruffles a heavy hand in his hair, in an attempt to get him to settle the fuck down. Force him back down to ground level, for fucks sake.

“Fine,” is all he says. “Lead the way, nerd.”

-

Karkat’s big hand ruffling Dave’s hair makes his knees buckle just a tiny bit, partly from the force of the gesture, and partly because fuck, that’s… really hot. 

He needs that to happen again. Preferably while he’s got Karkat’s dick in his mouth. Agh-- stop it. Calm the fuck down, Dave, he tells himself yet a-fucking-gain, the guy’s not interested. 

Opening the door for Karkat to enter first, he follows him inside the museum, which really seems like just some dude’s house with a “Museum” sign nailed to the porch. Tacky as fuck. Dave loves it. 

At the front desk, he hands over his debit card for the tickets, mentally calculating that he has $3 left on his card after this. Maybe it’s a stupid fucking thing to spend money on, but… he hasn’t been this excited about doing anything in years. Maybe ever. 

He waits impatiently for the bored front desk attendant to swipe his card, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He signs the receipt, grabs the tickets, handing one to Karkat, and practically sprints into the museum.

The very first exhibit he sees is an entire stuffed fox mounted on a wooden platform, and it’s wearing a fucking _cowboy hat_. Dave lets out a small sound of pure glee and circles around it in wonder. There’s a seam splitting on its leg, and it’s sort of cross-eyed. It’s so fucking _bad_ , it’s perfect. He loves it so much. He wants to take it home with him. 

He makes a big circle around the main room, drinking in the sights of all the neat weird preserved dead stuff. Some of the smaller stuff is actually decent, but most of it is just like, squirrels with miniature banjos glued to their hands. 

A dark side room with a glowing green light piques his curiosity, and he ducks inside. 

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispers, stepping into the room.

Underneath a green display light, with crappy stars and planets painted on the walls, there’s a display case with a fucking _preserved alien_ in a _jar_. It’s literally just a rubber alien toy that you could buy at the dollar store, and it looks so incredibly fucking bad. 

Dave turns to make sure Karkat’s seeing this shit, right now. 

“Hey! Karkat, over here,” he whisper-shouts. “It looks like your shitty podcast was right after all, aliens do exist.”

-

Karkat is impressed when Dave actually purchases the tickets. He would have bought his own, really, but Dave was so excited about doing it, he couldn’t not let him.

The museum is… well, he doesn’t really fucking know what it is. Some of the displays are very obviously fake, and some of them are… uncanny. Even if they’re fake, what would someone gain from dressing them up like that? It’s kind of… sick? It’s definitely a sick type of humor. Not completely off-putting, he guesses. He can appreciate a dark theme as much as the next guy, but. Maybe he just doesn’t get it.

Dave, though. He’s zooming around the fucking place like a child in a candy store. A little nerd in a fake science museum.

He gets caught up looking at a raccoon with little farming props glued to it’s display, and when he looks back up, Dave is gone. He hears him calling his name from behind an open door, so he follows.

The glowing green light is obnoxious and cheesy, and the alien on the table is just as bad. At Dave’s comment, Karkat scoffs and rolls his eyes. “If he was right about anything, it wasn’t little green men. Aliens might be out there but not like this, not--” He realizes he’s falling into a trap and scoffs again as he cuts himself off.

He glares at the alien for a long moment, before looking over at Dave. He’s not bouncing anymore, but he’s still visibly excitable. Radiating this energy that’s just, captivating. He gives Dave a heavy once over, that energy sucking him in, and when he meets Dave’s eyes again, oh shit, Dave is looking right at him, and he’s standing so close, what the fuck, and he--

The energy shifts.

He can feel-- he can feel Dave wanting to kiss him. It’s thick in the air, suffocated him, and he has to physically take a step back from it. His breath catches in his throat for a moment, and the room is silent between them.

He can still taste the mood in his mouth, and suddenly the eye contact is too much to maintain. Even through those stupid sunglasses, that Dave for some reason chose to wear in this dark ass room. Maybe he won’t be able to see how flustered Karkat is. Good, that’s good, god fucking shit this is--

He clears his throat.

“Are you, uh… ready to go? I think I’ve seen enough.”

Why is his heart pounding like this? He’s too old to feel like this, jesus. And for what? Who? He does not want to kiss Dave, he doesn’t want anything to do with Dave. It’s just- it’s nothing.

It’s nothing.

…

It takes every bit of strength he has to rip himself from the spot. He’s stiff as he makes his way for the door.

-

Dave stands rooted to the spot as he watches Karkat walk away. 

What… the fuck was that, just now? 

Karkat had _definitely_ just checked him out. Hadn’t he? Dave totally saw his eyes go sha-woop, from his head all the way down to his toesies. And then the way he’d looked into his eyes. Like he wanted to fucking _devour_ him. Dave shivers. He wonders what would have happened if he’d just taken a tiny step forward, and pushed himself up on his toes to kiss Karkat. 

He realizes he’s been standing in here for a good minute or two, and he hurries back out through the lobby, into the parking lot. 

He climbs into the truck, not sure if he should say something, either to address… whatever just happened, or to clear the air. He settles on his old standby, just opening his mouth and seeing what comes out. It only lets him down, like, more than half the time.

“Hey, thanks for letting me burn up an hour of your day, I really, uh. I had a good time,” he rambles. “I would say we should do it again sometime, but it’s not like it was a date or anything, ha, and also after this trip I’m literally never going to see you again, so.” He shuts his mouth.

That... could have come out worse. He thinks.

-

“...right,” Karkat agrees. Are they not going to talk about how… _charged_ that just was? That’s fine, he doesn’t want to talk about it anyway. Absolutely now.

But he can still feel it itching under his skin. The fucking magnetism, tugging him closer and closer. Filling his head with images of Dave’s eyes, his mouth. His mouth… How small Dave feels in his hands.

Christ.

He actually shifts in his seat, because it goes straight to somewhere in his anatomy he doesn’t want to think about. He can admit to getting soft on the kid, maybe caring a little bit about his wellbeing, but not… this. This is too much.

He doesn’t even really know how _old_ Dave is. Sure, he can assume he’s twenty one after getting his hands on that alcohol, but Dave didn’t have any _money_ at the time, and that means he probably _stole it_ and there’s no age restriction on theft.

He starts the engine and adamantly avoids looking anywhere in Dave’s general direction. “We’ll be driving a little later tonight, to make up for the time we spent here. I hope you peed while we were in there, because we aren’t stopping again.”

It’s an empty threat, obviously. He _clearly_ has a hard time saying no to Dave. Whatever the fuck is up with _that._

-

Karkat’s definitely acting weird. Does… does he think that Dave _didn’t_ like being checked out by him just now? Is he feeling guilty or something?

Why is Dave being so weird about this?? Normally he wouldn’t hesitate to just fuckin’ ask what somebody’s thinking, but for some reason this feels delicate. Important. But like Dave said, they’re only gonna be spending another day with each other, day and a half at most. He’s getting kind of sick of tiptoeing around this shit, it’s not like him. Or it’s not like who he wants to be, anyway.

He sits in silence for exactly four seconds before his mouth starts talking for him again, voicing all the things he’s been bottling up since last night.

“Hey Karkat?” he says, his heart pounding loudly. “I wasn’t gonna bring it up earlier but, do you think maybe we should talk about. You know. _Last night?_ And like, how I definitely offered to suck your dick and touched your junk and stuff? And how you seemed like you might be kind of enjoying it, but then you told me to stop, and then in the museum just now how it seemed like you were definitely eyeing my body and then we totally almost kissed except you ran away? Or would you rather just not talk about it, ever, I mean, that’s okay too, I can do that. It’s just that I kind of can’t stop thinking about it, is all.”

He looks at Karkat, trying to appear braver than he feels. Why is this so fucking awkward to talk about? They’re both adults, they should be able to talk about this shit without making it weird.

-

Karkat’s blood runs cold just hearing Dave say any of that out loud. Anxiety grips him, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He feels guilty. He feels bad. He feels like he should have realized that Dave had feelings about this, too, before this very moment.

Of course Dave has been thinking about it. Why would he not be? Is he hurt about it? He kind of sounds hurt, fuck, what the hell is he supposed to say? Not talking about it ever sounds like the perfect option, except… they kind of have to. Especially if he’s going to survive the rest of this trip.

He still hesitates, though. He opens his mouth, and nothing comes out for a moment. “...”

After a careful sigh, he tries again. “...Dave, you were extremely drunk last night. Regardless of what either of us wanted, that kind of trumped it. Even if we don’t know each other, I still respect you enough to not cross that line.” He shifts again, because he’s uncomfortable, and definitely not because thinking about it is making the situation in his pants worse.

He swallows the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what you think happened in the museum, but it wasn’t… that…” God, why is this so fucking hard? “I don’t even know how old you are? But I’m definitely too old for you. And you’re… not…” It feels like a stupid excuse to say you’re not a girl to someone who clearly doesn’t fucking care about that.

Not that mouths are any different anyway.

FUCK. Now he’s the one that’s ranting.

“What I’m trying to say is, it’s not appropriate. Alright? And you were saying something about needing to pay me back for the ride, and that’s not… That’s not something that needs to happen. Payment, I mean. I don’t care about that. So if that’s all it is, then just drop it.”

Right. That definitely sounded final. No arguments to be had. No payment needed.

-

The way Karkat squirms while he’s talking makes Dave think he might be feelin’ it, but then his words sound like he’s not. It’s fucking confusing, and the opposite of what Dave wanted to have happen. He wants to just clear this shit up once and for all, dammit.

His mouth keeps talking, which is good, because his brain has pretty much stopped working. 

“I mean, that’s cool and all and I appreciate you respectin’ me and shit, but I didn’t try to do it because I thought I owed you. I mean, I _do_ owe you. But that’s not why, I know you’re not like… that kind of person or anything, man. I just wanted to, y’know, do that, because you’re fuckin’ smokin’ hot, end of story. Like, damn, your thighs? I have not been able to stop thinkin’ about those things clamping down on my head like a fuckin’ vice grip. Not to mention your incredible ass, dude, and also your arms? Seriously, you’re like my biggest wet dream come to fuckin’ life.”

He pauses, remembering that he still doesn’t know how Karkat feels about any of this, and that he might not appreciate Dave writing an entire novel-length freestyle poem about his ass.

“Uh, but that’s just me, man. I’m nineteen so I’m basically always horny, so don’t worry about it, I’ll totally understand if you’re not interested. I just thought, maybe you were, but um, I guess I might have been wrong about that? So, yeah, if that’s the case then I’m sorry and I won’t bring it up again, I promise, I won’t be an asshole about it or anything.”

-

Hearing Dave talk about how hot he is, is awkward. Weird. Kind of hot. Kind of actually really hot. Dave sounds like he’s been staring at him since they met. Like he’s hungry for Karkat, and it has exactly nothing to do with owing Karkat any favors. It’s just so stupidly honest and open and _wow_ does Dave really think he’s that attractive?

The pure wanting alone in Dave’s voice is enough to stir Karkat all the way back up again. And now his dick is definitely hard and there’s no denying it anymore.

Dave is nineteen, huh? Isn’t _that_ just fucking disgusting. Even thinking about it automatically makes Karkat a dirty old pervert. Corrupting the youth. A cradle robber. Is this grooming? Fuck, he feels gross and guilty, but also _really wants Dave’s mouth wrapped around his dick._ He’s been talking about it way too much, Karkat’s been picturing it _way too much_ for it not to be a thing that happens.

Fuck it.

“It’s not… that I’m not interested…” he starts, carefully. Very fucking carefully. “You’re just… young. And seem prone to making rash decisions. And I don’t… I don’t want to let you do something you’re going to regret. I can only tiptoe my way around saying no so many times without actually saying no. I’m saying…”

Goddamn, what _is_ he saying?

“...I’m driving.”

No. _No._

“...But I can stop. If you’re. You know. Positive. Because I’m--” He winces, still hesitant to admit how thoroughly Dave is affecting him. He’s _hard_ and it’s almost embarrassing to admit. IT’s been too long, he’s not used to this kind of attention. “I’m… listening.”

Wow, how much more awkward can this possibly get? He realizes how desperate he sounds, offering to stop the fucking truck again, but-- but. They both apparently want it, even if Karkat won't say that in so many words. And now is as good a time as any, right? Right.

-

Dave’s sure his pupils are blown wide open with how fucking hot he is for Karkat, right now. 

_He’s listening,_ he said. 

That sounds like a big fat fuckin’ yes to Dave. Considering how Karkat usually seems to talk, anyway. 

“Yes. Please. Fuck, please pull over right the fuck over now, because I am seriously going to fuckin’ die if I don’t get your dick in my mouth in the next twelve seconds,” he says all in one breath. “I need to get your pants off, like, yesterday.”

He rakes his eyes over Karkat, stopping at his crotch where he can _definitely_ see a large bulge in his pants. Fuckin’ _nice_. Dave has to make an effort to prevent his hand from reaching out to touch it, he wants it so bad. Wants to feel it under his hand, hardening, maybe leaking. He doesn’t want Karkat to crash the car, though, that would seriously suck, so he waits patiently, his own dick hard and twitching, and his heart trying to pound a hole through his chest.

-

Karkat's heart is fucking racing, hearing how excited Dave is to get a yes. The kid is damn near breathless, even more excited than he'd been to get inside that museum. He can feel eyes all over him, and fuck, okay, this is fine, he's fine.

He's so hot it's making him dizzy. He sees a sign that says the next rest stop is in fifteen miles. He takes a deep breath. That gives them a little over ten minutes to get their shit together. Specifically, for Dave to change his mind, if that's something that's going to happen.

"You know, you've got a really filthy mouth for someone who told me he wasn't gay yesterday. And suddenly you want to put it on my--" Damn, voicing his thoughts out loud makes him feel dirty. He hasn't even really thought about sex with another person in so long, that actually talking about it is a struggle all on its own. It's hard. It's awkward. He grips the steering wheel.

"...my dick," he finishes. "What happened? You got a feel, and changed your mind? Am I really that attractive?" It's partially foreplay, and partially a genuine question. He really doesn't think he's anything special to look at, but clearly Dave does.

And... he knows he's not exactly lacking in the package department. He wonders if Dave could tell, when he touched it. Is that a conceited thing to think about himself? Fuck, this whole thing is awful anyway, who cares?

"Think you can wait ten minutes?"

-

“Yeah man, you totally turned me gay with how hot you are,” Dave says, deadpan. Then he snorts a little laugh. “Nah, dude, I’m uh, probably bi or something, I don’t really know. I just don’t usually jam about that with random truckers the first time I meet them.”

“But to be clear,” he continues. “Yes, I really do fuckin’ want to put my mouth on your dick.” He licks his lips, looking at Karkat’s mouth. “I want to put a lot of my parts on a lot of your parts.”

Smooth. 

“And I guess I can wait ten minutes,” he says. What else is he gonna say, no, that’s too long to wait, I’m just gonna rub one out right here while you watch and keep driving? 

He looks away from Karkat because he thinks if he keeps staring at his hot body, he’s going to combust into a pile of ash. And then he won’t be able to get laid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art for this chapter by [@Koa_Doodles](https://twitter.com/koa_doodles)


	4. A Dangerous Game

Fuck. Ten minutes is a long time, it turns out, when you’re sitting next to the guy you’re about to fuck for the first time and you both know it. 

It feels like an eternity before Karkat’s finally pulling off the highway into the rest stop parking lot. Dave’s unbuckling his seatbelt before Karkat finishes parking. He looks up at him, his heart racing, fuck, they’re really gonna do this right now, aren’t they? He’s so fuckin’ ready. His dick is straining to bust out of his pants. 

He eyes Karkat’s mouth and bites his lower lip softly, wanting to kiss him. Is he allowed to do that? Or is this just a suck-my-dick-and-go, no kissing allowed, kind of deal? Hmm, maybe they should have discussed this during the last awkward as fuck ten minutes.

-

Karkat might have found a bit of confidence during their conversation, but as the silence drags on, he has plenty of time to start second guessing himself. He gets nervous. Is this really okay? Is he on his way to making a huge mistake?

By the time he’s actually stopping the truck, he’s hyper aware of the fact that they’re in public. He’s aware of Dave still wearing his t-shirt, of the people walking around outside, of Dave being a _fucking teenager_ , of how bad this whole situation really is. It’s really, really bad, but he looks up and sees how fucking eager Dave still looks and he…

He’s going to let it happen anyway, isn’t he? Does this make him a bad person?

He gets as far the fuck away from the windows as he can get, and goes to sit on his bed. He’s watching Dave, who is more than happy to follow him, and settle right the fuck down on his knees again in front of Karkat. Jesus christ, it should be illegal for someone to look that happy about this.

And Dave’s mouth… It just… looks so soft. So supple. He just _knows_ those lips are going to look great stretched around him. It’s time to stop thinking about it and make it happen.

He resolves himself to not hesitating anymore. If they’re going to do this, then he’s going to enjoy it, damnit. No regrets. He reaches forward to take Dave’s shades, folding them and setting them aside without asking. And his hand comes right back to cup Dave’s cheek, thumbing across his cheekbone, looking down at him with a fondness he hasn’t let himself express yet.

He spreads his legs, letting his knees hug either side of Dave’s much smaller body. It’s as clear an invitation as anything could possibly be, and he finds himself licking his own lips while looking at Dave’s. If his boner flagged over all that anxiety he was having, it’s right the fuck back up now, looking into those glaxed eyes.

He can’t help a little bit of teasing. “Are you sure you can handle me, kid? I don’t know if you’re really prepared for what you’re about to see.” The word _”kid”_ feels filthy in his mouth, but it doesn’t make him back down. Now that he’s submitted to it, it actually makes him feel really fucking good that Dave is this much smaller than him. It’s incredibly hot, and he can’t _wait_ to split Dave open.

-

Dave flinches slightly as Karkat takes his shades off, but it’s dark enough back here that his eyes aren’t too sensitive. He looks up at Karkat as the older man cups his huge, warm hand against his cheek. God, the look Karkat’s giving him is… it’s something. 

Inexplicably, it makes a lump form in Dave’s throat, and he swallows it away. No feelings right now, just sexy time. 

The mood lightens when Karkat teases him, and he taunts him back, “Why don’t you stop talkin’ yourself up and just show me. Unless you’re scared or somethin’.”

He can’t help himself, he leans forward on his knees, steadies his hands on Karkat’s shoulders to anchor himself, and kisses him. He licks and sucks at Karkat’s mouth messily, tasting coffee and inhaling the clean scent of his skin. Karkat feels so big compared to him, his broad shoulders are like mountains for Dave’s hands to climb. Even his mouth is bigger than Dave’s; he feels like Karkat’s going to swallow his lips whole with every kiss.

After a minute, he breaks away, his chest heaving with quick, eager breaths. It’s dick time. He focuses his full attention on getting Karkat’s pants off, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, his boxers too. And oh--fuck, holy shit, there it is. His dick. Ho boy. It is real real fuckin’ large. Dave’s mouth waters... 

He leans down and gives it a tentative lick, testing the waters. He suddenly realizes he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, and he tries to recall memories of watching girls suck dick in porn.

Eh, Karkat will tell him if he’s doing it wrong. He opens his mouth wide, as wide as he can, and sinks it down over the tip of Karkat’s cock. Ohhhh, jesus, it’s so big. He moans, tasting the salty pre from his tip as it hits his tongue. His own dick is aching but he ignores it, right now he just wants to suck Karkat like his life depends on it. 

The heady smell of him is intoxicating, he smells all manly and shit, and Dave can’t fuckin’ get enough of it. He dribbles and salivates over the tip of Karkat’s cock as much as he can, trying to make it nice and wet for him. He’s not sure if he can actually swallow this whole fuckin’ thing, after all. He tests his limits, and finds he can take it about halfway into his mouth before it hits the back of his throat. He bobs clumsily up and down on it, trying to establish a rhythm, stroking the base up and down with one hand while using the other hand to keep himself propped up. 

It’s kind of awkward and he’s a little embarrassed that he doesn’t fucking know what he’s doing, but he hopes Karkat’s enjoying it still. It’s definitely doing something for Dave, anyway.

-

Karkat is surprised when Dave kisses him, but damn if it isn’t _good._ It’s sloppy and inexperienced, exactly how he would picture Dave to be, but it’s just so fucking enthusiastic. It’s charged and heated and he finds himself kissing back just as hard. He barely gets his tongue in Dave’s mouth before Dave is pulling away.

He should be embarrassed by the way he chases after Dave, but Dave doesn't even notice him. His eyes are suddenly glued on Karkat’s crotch, and there’s no room left for second thoughts or shame. Dave digs right in, tearing away clothes without even a hint of restraint. If Karkat had still been worried Dave didn’t really want this, he’s definitely not anymore.

He lets out a deep noise when Dave takes his bare cock in hand and just _licks_ it. It’s so absurdly cute, so fucking innocent, he almost combusts over it. _Dirty, filthy, pervert, jesus christ._

His thoughts only swirl for so long, though, because the next thing he knows, Dave is closing his mouth around it and pulling another breathless noise from him. Dave’s mouth is _hot,_ goddamn, and even when his teeth scrape a little, Karkat doesn’t actually mind. The tight way his lips stretch around it, the way his tongue presses along the side of it, it’s damn near enough to make Karkat cum prematurely.

Not that he’s going to last very fucking long anyway. He hasn’t been this turned on in a long time, forget about the fact that no one else has touched him either. God, and Dave is just so _greedy,_ taking him in as far as his little mouth can handle. He feels it when the head of his cock hits the back of Dave’s throat, and he barely has the presence of mind to be impressed that the kid didn’t choke on it.

“Dave…” he breathes, and he’s been trying to keep his hands to himself, but he _can’t_ anymore. He wants Dave to be able to explore on his own, to take it at his own pace, but Karkat’s hands are just _itching_ to touch. To grab. To _take._

He lets one sink into Dave’s hair and he fists in it. He doesn’t push or pull or force, but it’s definitely hard not to. He’s being quickly pushed to the edge, and he’s not sure how much longer he can hold on. The grip in Dave’s hair makes him feel like he might be able to stick it out, though. It’s grounding. Sure. Solid. It’s _Dave._

He cusses and curls in on himself a bit. His head hangs low, his eyes squeezed shut, chin tucked in toward his own chest. He’s not going to make it, christ, he’s going to-- “Dave,” he says again, and it’s significantly less composed than the first time. He’s not going to make it very much longer.

-

Dave moans on Karkat’s dick, a garbled, wet sound, as Karkat’s hand fists in his hair, the gentle tugging sending tingles down his scalp. He sucks sloppily at his cock, getting used to the feeling of it filling up his mouth, the stretch of his lips, the ache of his jaw. His body feels like it’s on fire. His dick is as hard as steel and it feels like he could go off at a single touch. 

Karkat says his name brokenly and it’s so hot, Dave wants to record the sound of that so he can cum to it every day for the rest of his life. He thinks Karkat might be close, and he sucks harder, pumps his hand faster. He wants Karkat to come. He wants to taste it. 

Karkat bucks his hips, hitting the back of Dave’s throat harder than before, cutting off his airflow for a moment, and it feels so fucking good, everything is so overwhelmingly good, _fuck!_ Dave ruts his hips forward against nothing. He lets Karkat thrust into his mouth, practically fucking his face, god. He squeezes his eyes and whines helplessly. He’s so fucking close and he hasn’t even been touched yet...

He feels Karkat’s hand tighten in his hair, hears him choke out a grunt, and a moment later, hot liquid hits the back of his throat, filling his mouth. Oh god, fuck, shit, this is the single hottest thing that’s ever happened to him.

The heat already pooling in Dave’s lower belly combined with the grip on his hair was already overwhelming, and the taste of Karkat’s cum is what pushes Dave over the edge. He cries out, muffled by Karkat’s cock still fucking in and out of his mouth, as his body tenses in an orgasm. His eyes squeezed shut tight, he spills all over the inside of his jeans. 

When he comes back to awareness, Karkat is _still_ shooting off into his mouth, and he swallows it down as much as he can, does his best to keep stroking and bobbing up and down on Karkat’s dick as he finishes out his orgasm. Some of the cum dribbles out of his mouth and down Karkat’s shaft, pooling in his pubes mixed with Dave’s drool. 

When he’s sure he’s done, he pulls his mouth away from Karkat’s dick. He looks up at Karkat, feeling completely fucking wrecked and starry-eyed. 

“How was that?” he asks shyly.

-

How was that?

_How was that?_

Karkat can’t help letting out a breathless laugh. It’s delirious, between his post-orgasm high and his disbelief that any of that even just happened. _How was that,_ jesus christ. Even when he got a little carried away there and started fucking into Dave’s mouth, the kid still look it like a champ.

Makes him wonder exactly how rough he could be, and Dave would still eat it up. With a _smile_ on his face, at that.

“Was good,” he says, with another little sigh. He feels good all over, his body and mind both relaxed. He pulls his fingers gently through Dave’s hair, where he’s still holding him, still watching him with half lidded eyes. “Really good… You did good.”

His eyes rake over Dave’s face, taking in every little detail. He looks even more wrecked than Karkat feels. His cheeks are pink. His eyes are glassy. His lips are red and raw, parted just enough for him to breathe deeply. He’s still got a little cum on his chin…

Karkat swipes at it with his thumb, and before he can think too hard about it, he’s pressing it into Dave’s mouth. The thrill he feels knowing that Dave swallowed all of his cum should be illegal. Maybe it is illegal. But the way Dave’s hot tongue squishes and wraps around his thumb shakes any thoughts from his mind that aren’t _”kiss him.”_

So after letting Dave suck on his thumb for a few seconds, he pulls it away and bends down for a kiss. It’s filthy, the way he stuffs his tongue in Dave’s mouth. He can taste himself there, which should disgust him, but knowing how much Dave fucking loved it only amps up how much he craves it. If he were younger, he would already be ready to go for round two. He finds himself wondering if Dave’s other hole is just as hot and good as his mouth was.

He might need a minute for that, though.

When he finally stops kissing Dave long enough to talk, he asks, “Are you okay? Got kinda carried away...”

-

God, fucking dammit. Karkat pushing his thumb into Dave’s mouth to make him suck down the last of his cum was… hot. Really, stupidly fucking hot. Despite the fact that he literally just came like 0.0000000005 seconds ago, Dave’s dick stirs with interest again as he sucks on Karkat’s thumb. Tasting his tongue is even better, though. He seriously thinks he could kiss Karkat for the rest of his life, it’s so natural and easy, and blisteringly sexy at the same time. 

Ok, yeah, he’s definitely hard again, God. He wonders if Karkat would be down for seconds later. Or sooner, he’s fine with that too.

He ducks his head as Karkat asks him if he’s okay. For some reason, the emotional intimacy of the question freaks him out more than having the guy’s dick in his mouth. He thinks that probably means he’s a little fucked up. Oh well, what else is new? 

“Yeah, I’m good. Great, even,” he’s quick to clarify. “It was really good. You’re… yeah.” Ugh, words. Are not happening the way he wants them to, right now.

To sweep away that awkwardness, and because any time spent not mackin’ on Karkat is time fuckin’ wasted, he leans back in and kisses him again. He lets himself enjoy the warm comfort of Karkat’s big hands touching him, holding him.

-

Karkat lets Dave kiss him for a long moment, before his brain catches up with the conversation and he frowns into it. It’s more out of concern than displeasure, though. “You don’t…” he starts to say.

Is Dave not going to ask him to return the favor? As much as he seems to have enjoyed himself, there’s no way he’s not hard. Right? Not that Karkat is extremely concerned with getting his hands wrapped around Dave’s dick, but he _is_ interested in making sure Dave is taken care of. He can’t really escape that, no matter the situation, it seems.

But if Dave isn’t going to ask, then that probably means…

He puts a hand on Dave’s shoulder to push him back just a bit. He’s still frowning as he gives Dave a once over, confirming that: yes. He’s still fully dressed. Didn’t even take it out to touch himself.

“Did you, uh... “ Wow, how is it possible to be this awkward still. “Did you finish...?” The question is left open ended, like he’s unsure, because it’s such a ridiculous thing to think. How could Dave possibly have cum without even getting his pants off.

The idea that he _might have,_ though… With just Karkat’s dick in his mouth and nothing else. That’s… It definitely sets off another swell of arousal.

-

Dave’s pretty sure his face looks like a tomato right now. “Uhm. Uhh.” 

Yeah, he sure fucking did just come in his pants, didn’t he. That was super cool and sexy of him. He considers lying about it, but then Karkat would probably offer to get him off and he’d definitely see the mess Dave made all over himself. Fuck. 

“I uh, I just… you’re hot?” Flawless conversation skills, Dave.

Is Karkat gonna think he’s lame for this? Probably, right? He’s like, so much older and probably way more experienced, whereas Dave gets a dick in his mouth and goes off like a fuckin’ rocket without even getting his pants off. Maybe Karkat will just be flattered… hopefully...

The way Karkat’s pushing him around gently to look at him, handling him firmly but with care, makes Dave’s dick start yelling at him again that it wants more fucky. Is he allowed to ask for that? Is that too greedy? Fuck, he really wants it. He decides to test the waters.

“I’m already like, good to go again though, if that’s something you’d be down for,” he says uncertainly. “Nineteen, remember?”

How can this be so fucking hot and so hellishly awkward at the same time??

-

Fuck, well, _that_ sure is a thing, isn’t it?

Another hot wave of arousal rolls up and down Karkat’s spine with the way Dave is looking at him. And he’s asking for more and reminding Karkat how young he is… Is he insulting him? Saying Karkat’s too old to go again?

That being correct only makes it more humiliating. His stamina isn’t what it used to be, and sure, he might be ready to go again in a while, but now? No fucking way.

“As much as I would love to do that, Dave… we need to get going,” he says. Perfect excuse. And they really _do_ need to get going. They’re already behind schedule after that little museum detour. And he feels less bad about saying no, knowing that Dave already came once.

Why does it feel so… disappointing to turn him down, though? Part of him wants to pull Dave up on the bed and kiss him for the next few hours. Maybe work up the courage to touch him himself. Just the idea alone of wrapping a hand around Dave’s cock is enough to make his hands sweat.

He _wants_ it. But he’s got a job to do. He’s not nineteen, like Dave is so fucking proud to be. He’s an adult with responsibilities and possibly a little bit of gay panic.

Holy shit, a teenaged boy just blew him in the back of his truck. And he wants it to keep happening.

He stands abruptly and goes to where he keeps his clothes. He fishes out a pair of clean sweatpants, that will no doubt be far too fucking big on Dave, just like the shirt, and holds it out to him. He can’t help meeting Dave’s eye, and-- shit. That was kind of cold, wasn’t it?

To soften the blow, he lets himself have just one more piece of Dave. For both of them. He bends down to plant a kiss on Dave’s forehead. He speaks quietly against his skin before pulling away, “Clean up a little bit. We’ll wash your clothes later tonight, okay?”

He finally turns away then, to let Dave change, and to settle back down in the driver’s seat.

Jesus, that was emotionally exhausting.

-

Dave takes the sweatpants from Karkat, and tries not to look disappointed. 

He thinks he must fail horribly at it, because the next thing he knows, Karkat’s leaning down and giving him the gentlest fuckin’ kiss on his forehead. God, it’s so tender, it feels like it must be meant for someone else. Nobody’s ever treated him like this before.

Karkat turns around and Dave peels off his sticky pants, grimacing at the mess on his thighs and inside his boxers. Man, it’s really… everywhere. He uses a clean area of his boxers to wipe himself down, and then bunches them up with his jeans on the floor, next to his vomit/pizza-grease stained shirt from yesterday. 

“Uh, can you hand me my backpack? I’ve got a change of underwear in there,” he asks Karkat. 

He grabs the backpack from Karkat and pulls out the clean boxers. Putting them on over his erection is sort of uncomfortable. 

He wonders idly what Karkat would do if he just took his pants off once he started driving again? Hmm. Hmmmmmm. That’s a fuckin’ idea.

Dave grabs a tissue from Karkat’s secret jerk-off stash and tucks it in the pocket of Karkat’s sweatpants. 

He pulls them on too, and he has to hold them up with his hand because even the elastic band isn’t enough to keep them on his hips, and they bunch up at his ankles, he seriously looks fucking ridiculous right now. _And_ he’s still wearing Karkat’s shirt. 

It’s like he _belongs_ to Karkat, or something. He shivers. Time to not examine that thought, ever, for the rest of his life.

Dave climbs into the passenger seat, holding his pants by the waistband up so they don’t fall down. 

He waits until Karkat pulls back onto the highway, and then he tugs his pants down, pulls his (rock hard, thank you) cock out, and palms it in his sweaty hand. 

He starts jacking himself and moans softly, wanting to get Karkat’s attention. Fuck, it feels good. He thinks about how Karkat’s dick felt sliding between his lips, spilling down his throat. Mmmmm. Yeah. God, it was so fucking hot, he just wants Karkat to touch him all over, stretch him open on his thick fingers, fuck him with that huge fat cock. Fuck, yeah, he wants it. 

He’s not sure if he’s been saying any of this out loud or not, but it feels so good to touch himself that he can’t bring himself to care.

-

Karkat is grateful that Dave doesn’t make a big deal about being turned down. If Dave would have begged him, even a little bit, a tiny little please, he would have absolutely caved. And they would have fallen even further behind schedule and he would have been late on his shipment…

But it’s fine. They’re back on the road. They got their sexual tension out in the open and squared away. Satisfied, for now.

For now… But what about later? What is the night going to look like for them? He’s _not_ sleeping in his chair again, and if Dave asks to sleep with him in the bed…

...What’s that noise?

There’s a distinctly wet sound coming from beside him, and Dave’s muttering voice. He glances over, and his wide, shocked eyes immediately snap back toward the road. Is Dave really fucking touching himself right now?? _He just saw Dave’s whole dick in his hands._

And that’s definitely Dave talking to himself. Something about wanting Karkat to fuck him. Splitting him open on his thick fingers. How good it felt to have a cock in his mouth-- _fuck_ he can’t be hearing this right now. He thought this was _over._ But it’s so stupidly fucking hot, that Dave physically can’t restrain from touching himself-...

 _”Dave,”_ he demands, voice strained. His own arousal spikes once again, and he’s just about fucking ready to pull over on the side of the road. “What are you _doing?”_

“Uhh-- ahh--,” Dave grunts, continuing to stroke himself. “I’m just, finishing up, what you started-- you fuckin’ tease--”

He grins at Karkat with his cheeks hot and his eyes glazed. He keeps jerking himself as he looks openly at Karkat’s body, admiring his physique. His plush, kissable lips. His reddened cheeks and wide eyes. 

Karkat’s definitely being affected by this. Heh, nice. 

He shoves two fingers into his own mouth and sucks on them, moaning like a slut. It’s not the same as Karkat’s dick, but it’s still… good. Hot. 

He feels so exposed, doing this right in front of Karkat, on the open road, where anyone could glance in the window and guess at what he’s doing. They’re high up enough in the cab that nobody would probably be able to _actually_ see his dick or anything, so he doesn’t have to worry about traumatizing passing drivers, but there’s still an element of public-ness to this that’s seriously getting him going.

Since he came once earlier, Dave knows he can hold out a lot longer this time. He thrills at the idea that Karkat will just have to sit there and do nothing the whole time, while Dave fucks his own fist right in front of him. 

“You like-- ah, what you see?” he asks Karkat.

-

Karkat grips the steering wheel so fucking hard, his knuckles turn white. Don’t look, don’t fucking look at him, don’t--

He glances at Dave again and has to catch his breath so he doesn’t fucking choke on it. Dave’s got his fingers in his mouth, his other hand wrapped around his dick, and he’s practically _riding_ the seat.

He can’t stop himself from imagining those hips rocking down into his _lap,_ on his cock, those sinful lips smashed against his own. Makes him want to pick Dave up and bend him over and teach him a fucking lesson for distracting him like this while he’s driving.

He suddenly finds himself wanting to pour his everything into Dave. Make _him_ feel good. Show Dave what it’s like to be taken care of. He might not have any experience touching other men, but he suddenly doesn’t give a fuck about that. He can figure it out. He’ll figure it out for Dave. As long as he gets to keep watching him makes those _noises_ with that beautiful fucking voice of his, and that _face._

“I’m the tease?” he asks, feeling much braver than he was a few minutes ago. “You’re the one who’s been dangling yourself in front of me this whole time. Getting wasted and throwing yourself at me, so I _have_ to say no. Waiting until I’m on the road again to pull this shit, so I _can’t_ touch you. You _know_ I can’t stop again. Fucking brat. See where this lands you later.”

It sounds threatening, but… even _he’s_ shocked by the heat behind it. It’s not a threat of violence, it’s a threat of _dominance._ Sure, Dave can have his fun for now, but not without consequence.

-

Oh, _shit._

Apparently Dave has a kink for being threatened with punishment, who fuckin’ knew. Or, at least he does when it’s Karkat. Maybe it’s because he feels like Karkat wouldn’t actually hurt him, but the threats are going straight past the fear-center of his brain and straight to arousal town. 

He pictures what Karkat might do to him when they stop for the night. 

Spank him, fuck into him without stretching him enough so that it burns and aches. Fuck his mouth again and make him gag. 

Fuck, what if he held Dave down on the bed and just fucked him without letting him touch himself at all, made him come just from taking it in the ass? He wonders what kind of stamina Karkat has, if he can fuck Dave until he’s sobbing and begging for him to finish already.

Moaning at the wave of arousal that washes over him at these thoughts, Dave keeps humping into his hand, fucking his fist down onto himself over and over. He pauses to spit in his hand and keeps going, the slick, wet sounds turning him on even more. His dick is red and hard and straining, the tip is dripping, and he has an obscene urge to bend over and lick it off of himself. 

“What are you gonna do to me later… D-Daddy?” Dave says. He knows he’s pushing the boundaries of not being a jackass but… god, he really wants to get another reaction like that out of Karkat. “Are you gonna punish me for bein’ a bad boy?”

-

Wow. Fucking wow. Karkat can hear the way Dave’s breath stutters, the frantic movement of his hips and hands. And he sounds… flustered. Embarrassed, even. The way he stumbles over his words when he speaks tells Karkat everything he needs to know about the state Dave is in. He responds so fucking well to Karkat’s threat, that Karkat’s dick throbs in his pants at just the thought of it.

This is a dangerous game they’re playing. He’s watching the road, but every ounce of his attention is on Dave. On _”Daddy.”_ On the request for punishment. It’s awakening something in him that’s _long_ been asleep. Something that got locked away when he decided to spend 90% of his life alone and on the road, and the other 10% alone at home.

“I don’t know, Dave,” he starts, voice deceptively even, considering how fucking worked up he is. “What do you think you deserve, after a stunt like this? You’re going to sit there and cum a _second time_ and you think you deserve even more attention? If anything, you only deserve to be denied, but I already know you don’t need to be fucking touched to get off, so really, would that even be a punishment?”

He’s bluffing anyway. He’s absolutely going to fuck the life out of Dave once they’ve stopped for the night. There’s no reason to deny himself that pleasure, even if Dave is being a fucking brat about it. But he wants Dave to _think_ about what he’s done, and maybe feel a little bit sorry about it.

Then, an idea strikes him. If he can’t get off now, why should Dave? Why should he be the only one to suffer in this moment?

“...however,” he says, sparing Dave one more quick glance. “If you stopped right now… well. I wouldn’t have any choice but to reward you for it. Be a good little boy and _wait_ for me. Can you do that, Dave? Can you be good for me?”

He nearly trips over the words _”little boy”_ but he stands his ground. He’s in this shit now, and he’s not backing down. Sexuality be damned, this is between him and Dave now. No amount of awkwardness or heterosexuality is going to stop him from getting Dave under him by the end of the night.

-

Dave’s getting close. Hearing Karkat tell him how he deserves to be denied, to be punished, is making his moans grow louder, his hips jerk faster. His face heats up when Karkat mocks him for jizzing in his pants earlier, but the humiliation only turns him on more, fucking hell! Dave is seriously learning all kinds of new stuff about himself today.

He starts feeling the heat building in his belly again, a low simmering build, and then Karkat tells him to _stop_. To wait. Uhhm. _What the fuck???_ What kind of game is he playing right now? Then Karkat calls him a good little boy, and Dave has to grip the base of his dick to calm it down, because holy fuck, that almost made him go off right then and there. 

Fuck, he really wants to be good for Karkat. He wants it on a deep, instinctual level; he doesn’t even know _why_ he wants it, just that he does. 

Groaning, he stops moving his hand and just holds his dick, not fully agreeing to stop but not continuing either. His dick twitches impatiently and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from just going back to jerking it. 

Fuck, he’d been really close too.

“What… what kind of reward are we talkin’?” he asks. It’s just for show though, he already knows he’s going to say yes, no matter what it is, because of how badly he wants to hear Karkat call him _good_ again. The arousal that floods him at the mere thought, makes him shudder and close his eyes, tingles of pleasure cascading down his spine and straight into his dick. 

Fucking, fuck fuck fuck. 

He really wants to touch himself. He really wants to hear what Karkat has to say. Mostly he really just wants Karkat’s dick in him. Maybe if he’s good--another shudder--for Karkat, for his _Daddy_ , he can get what he wants tonight.

-

The fact that Dave actually stops makes a thrill of power ripple up Karkat’s spine. It makes his heart thump and his dick thump harder. Dave _listens._ Dave wants to be good.

What a dangerous situation, indeed.

“Hmm…” he hums, tapping his fingers on the wheel like he really has to think about it. Like they both don’t already know what’s going to happen. “That depends on how well behaved you can be, Dave.” He considers something sweeter, like baby, or sweetheart, but he’s still testing the waters a little, as far as this apparent _Daddy_ game goes. How much does Dave actually like it?

Well, a lot, obviously.

“Maybe I’ll let you suck me off again.” _Let you,_ like it’s something Dave needs more than he does. “Maybe I’ll fuck you the way you’ve been begging for. We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

He pauses, for just a second, before giving Dave an _actual_ demand. “Put it back in your pants, baby. Don’t touch.”

 _Baby,_ jesus christ. He’s not going to be able to survive the next eight hours like this. Not with this new spark of tension in the air. It’s so much thicker and more intentional than before. He can practically _taste_ it.

-

Dave shivers when Karkat calls him “baby.” Holy shit. What are they doing, right now? And why is it turning him on more than anything else?

Picturing Karkat stuffing his dick in his mouth, bending him over and fucking him later tonight… in this very cab… god, he wants it. He wants it so fuckin’ bad he can almost taste the come on his lips, feel the stretch of his asshole around the older man’s huge cock.

He pauses, acts like he’s thinking about it, not wanting to give in right away. Then he sighs and tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling the loose sweatpants up. His erection tents very obviously inside them, and he groans, looking up at Karkat.

“Okay, Daddy,” he says. “I’m being good, I can follow directions. What am I supposed to do the rest of the drive, though, if I can’t even touch myself? Can I at least touch _you_?”

He licks his lips, wanting to sink his mouth down over Karkat’s cock again. Make it so he can barely focus on his driving. Maybe if he’s good enough, Karkat won’t ever want him to leave this truck, he can just stay here and be the guy’s personal dick-sucking driving companion forever. 

His stomach sinks at the thought that he probably won’t see Karkat again after tomorrow. Dammit, he doesn’t want to think about that shit right now, or ever, thank you very much. Like he said, no point crying about shit you can’t fix. 

Dave shakes his head, pastes a smirk back on his face. “If you’re gonna make me wait all day, can you at least give me a hint about what I’m waiting _for_?”

-

Oh, _damn._ Dave actually putting his dick away hits Karkat with another shock of power. He can feel it in his veins and his heart and in his _hands._ How did they go from zero to sixty so fucking fast? Less than an hour ago, he was dodging a kiss in a museum, and now Dave is calling him Daddy and listening to his orders.

_Fuck._

He’s a little bit confused and a fucking lot of horny and it leaves him feeling light headed. This might actually be the death of him. He just can’t get over how easily Dave folds for him, it could make him crazy.

Get it _together,_ Karkat. Focus on the road. Take a deep breath. Defuse.

“The point in me telling you to stop, _Dave,_ is so that I can do my job right now. I’m proud of you for listening. That was good. But now you need to relax. I’m sure you can find something else to do.” His voice is calm now, in a way that he hopes urges Dave to knock it down a few pegs. He doesn’t mind if they continue with a little bit of… whatever they had going on. Banter? Flirting? Whatever. But the dirty talk needs to take a seat.

“We’ll stop in a few hours for lunch. Plenty of time for you to cool down, right?” He’s _dying_ to look over and see Dave’s cock sticking up in his pants, but he won’t. He _won’t._ This is over for now, firmly.

Definitely.

-

Karkat says Dave needs to relax. Hah. Not fucking likely, but okay. 

His dick throbs and twitches, and his whole body is flushed and aroused. He feels like he’s about to fall apart if he doesn’t touch his dick, but Karkat’s firm tone stills his hand. It’s so commanding and sure, he wants to do whatever that voice tells him to do for the rest of his life. 

He wants to fight it too, because fuck being told what to do, but. It’s just so _hot._ And if he’s good, Karkat might reward him for it later. Fuck. Maybe he can tempt Karkat to break, if he acts slutty enough.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a little road head? I don’t even have to touch myself, just having you in my mouth would be more than enough,” he says. “I’m just a little thirsty and I could use a refreshing drink of cockjuice. Don’t tell me you don’t want it, Daddy, come on, let me make you feel good,” he whines. “I just wanna be obedient for you but it’s hard to be good without a cock in my mouth.”

He reaches over into Karkat’s lap and starts petting his crotch gently, rubbing at it, trying to show him how eager he is to please him.

-

 _“Dave,”_ Karkat warns, and his voice borders on dangerous. He’s glad it comes out sharp, because the hand in his lap threatens to make his voice break. He can’t deny that Dave’s desperation is feeding into his ego in a way that makes him want to slam on the brakes, but…

He said no. And Dave isn’t listening.

“Doing the opposite of what I asked you to do isn’t going to get you what you want,” he says. “I told you to stop, and I meant it. If you don’t let me do my job, we’ll never even make it to the next stop. You’re cute, but I’m not going to lose my job over you.”

Ah, fuck. Did he just say Dave was cute? Out loud? Isn’t that a little too… affectionate? Considering their relationship is just sexual?

Their _relationship,_ jesus christ. It can’t even be called that, either, can it? They’re probably never going to see each other again after tomorrow.

So why are his cheeks hot in a whole new way? Telling Dave he’s cute feels like… admitting something. Something he hasn’t even had the strength to think about yet. That he’s attracted to Dave, possibly on more than a physical level. He likes Dave… He thinks Dave is funny and annoying and _comfortable._ He likes Dave’s music. He--

He’s thinking too much. All he said was that Dave was cute. It’s not like Dave is going to read that far into it. It’s not like Dave didn’t just have that cute mouth wrapped around his cock. They’re past this, probably.

“...so keep your hands to yourself, please,” he finally finishes. It’s a bit softer than the initial demand, but maybe Dave won’t notice that either.

-

Dave reluctantly pulls his hand away, then adjusts himself in his pants, taking maybe a little more time than is strictly necessary. He’s still not fuckin’ over how hot it is that Karkat’s telling him what to do. And how much he enjoys obeying…

Ugh, he’s gonna be horny til they stop for the night at this rate. Time for a distraction. Karkat called him cute, didn’t he? That’s like, a thing his brain can latch onto and fixate on instead.

“Aw, you think I’m cute?” he teases Karkat. “Adorable, even? Like a precious wittle baby angel covered in feathers and shit? You wanna rock me to sleep and pet me like a kitten?” 

...Dammit, this is still making him horny. 

Willing his boner to disappear, he sits and mopes in the passenger seat for a few minutes, then grabs Karkat’s phone to put a podcast on. Not a sexy one though, this time. 

He puts on InfoWars, possibly the least sexual podcast of all time, hoping it will calm his dick down. It… kind of works. He still spends most of the next hour stealing glances at Karkat, squirming in his seat, and generally wishing he was getting fucked right now.

Even Dave can’t maintain that amount of horniness for that long, though, and after a while he pulls his iPad out and starts working on a new commission request. He loses another hour or so focusing on drawing. 

When he looks out the window the next time, it’s because Karkat’s pulling off the highway into a rest stop. They’ve been driving forever and they only just got out of Texas a few hours ago. Dave never realized how fuckin’ big his stupid state is. His stomach rumbles, and he wonders if Karkat will buy him food again if he looks pathetic enough, otherwise he’s gonna have to find something that only costs--he checks his Paypal app--$3.05.

-

Karkat is slow to calm down. Even after Dave settles and finally decides to leave him alone, he’s left with the shock of everything that happened.

Between Dave readily getting on his knees for him, Dave climaxing without being touched, Dave-- Dave being _extremely responsive_ to being told what to do. Dave easily and willingly calling him _Daddy._

He’s only ever played around with that role once or twice, with people he knew he’d never see again, just in case things went south. It was… a fucking rush. Something unbridled and exciting, but unrewarding. It hadn’t worked out at the time, with them, but with Dave...

Dave is very good.

It’s another few hours before they stop again, but Karkat is starting to get hungry, so he decides it’s time to stop for lunch. It’s probably also time for another coffee.

He pulls to a stop in the parking lot and finally allows himself to look at Dave again. His heart flutters when he does, because fuck, Dave is just as pretty as the last time he looked at him. Can he kiss him? Is that a thing? Is that what they’re doing now?

“Come here,” he says, and he’s leaning halfway to Dave’s seat before he can stop himself. He gives Dave a lingering kiss on the lips, allowing himself to just… enjoy it for a few seconds.

“Thank you for being good…” he says. “Can you walk in those pants, or do you want to wait here? I’ll bring some food back, if you want to stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art for this chapter by [@Apiaristic](https://twitter.com/Apiaristic) on Twitter and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apiaristic/pseuds/Apiaristic) 💓


	5. Out Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: f slur, violence, assault

Dave leans hungrily into the kiss. He feels weird. Like, he’s horny as hell for Karkat, that’s definitely part of it, but there’s something else in that hunger, something _feelings_ -y that he really doesn’t want to examine now. 

All too soon, the kiss is over, and Karkat’s calling him good, making him blush and shiver. Fuck, seriously, what does this man _do_ to him? The way Karkat fell apart under him today, used him, fucked his mouth full of cum, then bossed him around… it’s something Dave never realized how much he wanted. Something he could really get used to.

He looks down at his clothes. “Uh, yeah I probably shouldn’t go around in public like this more than I absolutely have to. Staying sounds good, thanks.”

After Karkat leaves, Dave checks his texts. Nothing new from Bro still, that’s good. Maybe he won’t even bother to check in on Dave. Probably considers him a lost cause at this point. That thought shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

Dave realizes he should probably go piss while they’re here, so he doesn’t tick Karkat off by making him stop on the highway again. Cinching up the baggy sweatpants as tight as he can under his oversized t-shirt, he climbs out of the truck and locks the door behind himself. He doesn’t want anyone stealing their shit, and Karkat can just let him in when he gets back. 

He finds a restroom and does his business in a stall to avoid having people stare at his clownishly ill-fitting clothing situation. He takes an extra minute to tie his pants back up, and he hears a couple of guys come in, talking and laughing loudly. They sound kind of drunk, reminding Dave a bit too much of himself last night. He cringes at the memory, but takes a moment to revel in the fact that Karkat actually _did_ want him last night, he was just afraid to take advantage of a drunk kid. 

Unlocking the door, he goes to wash his hands. The two guys are just standing around in the bathroom, talking to each other, but they go silent when Dave comes out of the stall. A bad feeling creeps up the back of his neck, but he tries to ignore it, he’s definitely just being paranoid or something.

Except--

“Hey, faggot,” one of the guys says. 

Dave winces and ignores them. They’re drunk, just don’t make eye contact, don’t look at them, get out of here.

He wipes his hands on his pants and tries to duck out of the room, but one of the guys shoves him up against the wall. Fuck. They’re a lot bigger than he is. He’s not weak or anything, he can fight, Bro sure fuckin’ taught him well enough, but he also knows when he’s outweighed.

“Hey, fellas, how’s the open road treatin’ y’all today,” he says, his stupid Southern twang affecting him more heavily than normal. 

“A little better now that we’ve found ourselves some entertainment,” says the guy pinning him against the wall with a smirk. 

Oh Jesus Christ, what the fuck. This is so not good. 

The other guy takes a drunken swing at Dave and hits him in the gut. It knocks the wind out of him briefly and he heaves. He manages to kick the guy holding him in the leg, which lets him duck down before the next swing comes in aimed at his face. He hears a dull smack where his attacker’s fist lands on the tile wall, and loud cursing follows it.

He tries to squirm out the door, but the wall-pinning guy grabs his arm and wrenches it, and he yells. 

“Where the hell are you goin’? We’re not done with you yet, kid.” He yanks Dave toward him and twists him around, pinning his arms behind his back. Dave closes his eyes as another fist flies toward his face and makes contact this time. It’s not a very precise hit, but damn does it fucking hurt still. Goddamn, Dave’s only been away from his strifing habit for a couple days and already his pain tolerance is way the fuck lowered. 

He opens his mouth to--he’s not sure what. Yell, spit, curse, do _something_ , when suddenly the bathroom door opens and Karkat walks in.

-

Karkat tries not to look like he's hurrying as he heads inside the building, but… he kind of is. He wants to get this food and bring it back to the truck as quick as possible, so he can get back to Dave.

...or. Maybe he should relax for a fucking second. Their relationship is progressing pretty quickly, and it’s a little fucking weird, isn’t it? Isn’t it kind of… inappropriate? On like, so many different fucking levels???

But fuck if he isn’t enjoying it. And if this is going to be as short lived as he thinks it is, what could really be the harm in it…?

His mind wanders to some of the things that Dave has said in the past day. About his obviously abusive home life, and the things he left behind. Is Karkat taking advantage of his vulnerabilities? Does Dave actually like him, or is he only attracted to the fact that Karkat has been being _nice_ to him. Maybe he’s not used to being treated this kindly, and it’s the only way he knows how to react.

Fuck. _Fuck._ Don’t fucking go there. Dave isn’t being taken advantage of, he’s nineteen. When Karkat was nineteen, he was more than capable of making his own decisions.

Not that he used that decision making autonomy to shack up with older men in semi trucks, but. The point stands.

He’s on auto pilot as he orders the food. He grabs a couple of subs that he knows he likes, so whatever Dave doesn’t want, he’ll eat. He also grabs a couple of coffees on his way out, and heads back to the truck much more slowly than he left it.

When he gets back, though, of course Dave isn’t there. Why would he be? That would be too easy.

Deciding that he might as well go to the bathroom while they’re here, he figures he can look for Dave in there as well. What he finds when he opens the door makes his heart stop.

His eyes flit between Dave, shoved up against the tile wall, covered in his own blood, cheek swelling up into his eye; the first dead man, and the second one.

Heat rises from his gut and into his face faster than it ever has when Dave flustered him. His anger is so white hot, he can’t feel his own fingers as they ball into fists.

They start to say something to him, but he can’t hear what they’re saying over the roaring of blood in his ears. The sound of his knuckles cracking into cheek bones is only beat by the sound of skull meeting tile. The first guy goes down in half a second, out cold, and when he turns on the other, he’s already backing away with his hands raised.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” Karkat is saying, but his words sound far away. His eyes are zeroed in on the poor fuck who decided to pick the wrong fight today. “He’s just a _kid,_ who the fuck are _you?”_

“Listen, man, we--” Karkat doesn’t let him finish, before he meets the same fate as the first bastard. He goes crashing head first through the stall door, before landing directly in the toilet where he fucking belongs.

Karkat finally turns to see Dave slumped in a heap on the floor against the wall. He rushes over to crouch beside him and turns Dave’s chin up to meet his bleary eyes. “Hey, look at me,” he says. Dave’s eyes are on full display, full of things Karkat has never seen and never wants to see again. His shades must be around here on the ground somewhere-- but that’s not what the fuck is important. What’s important is making sure Dave isn’t too badly hurt.

“Talk to me, tell me you’re okay,” he says again, softer this time. He _needs_ Dave to be okay. This is so fucked up. What were those guys even doing?

-

Dizzy and clutching a hand to his sore cheek, Dave collapses onto the floor as soon as he’s no longer being held up by his attacker, who is now lying on the floor unconscious. He watches in amazement as Karkat knocks the other guy down, then closes his eyes and hisses at the sharp pain in his cheek. He tenderly feels around on his face, testing for broken bones, but he thinks he’s okay. Or, well, not _okay_ , but nothing’s broken, anyway, just hella bruised. 

Fuck. The adrenaline that had been surging through him dissipates, and he suddenly feels like bursting into tears. He realizes that in some small, hopeful part of his brain, he’d thought that maybe once he’d got away from Bro, he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone kicking his ass anymore. But he was wrong. There’s shitheads everywhere, and he was naive to even hope otherwise. 

Before he can get a handle on his stupid bullshit emotions, Karkat’s crouching in front of him, talking to him softly. Asking if he’s okay, examining his face, acting like-- like he fucking gives a shit about Dave. 

Dave _knows_ , okay, he knows he doesn’t actually mean anything to Karkat, he’s just some down-on-his-luck shmuck that the guy happened to take pity on for a few days. He opens his mouth to tell him he’s fine, nothing’s broken, he’ll be okay--but what comes out instead is a choked-off sob.

He’s not sure how it happens, but suddenly he’s bawling into Karkat’s shoulder, his breath hitching and his whole body shaking. Jesus Christ, this is the second time he’s cried in front of this guy in two days, he must think Dave’s such a fucking loser crybaby. He tries to pull himself together, but the sobs just keep coming, and he clutches his arms around Karkat’s neck like it’s the only thing keeping him from shaking himself to pieces.

-

“Fuck,” Karkat mutters. He can’t do anything but wrap his arms around Dave as the kid trembles into him. A million thoughts are racing through his head, like what the fuck _was_ that? What were they doing? Did Dave provoke them somehow?

Well, as likely as that is, with Dave’s stupid fucking mouth. There’s also the fact of what Dave is _wearing_ to consider. He… clearly isn’t wearing his own clothes. He probably looks either poor or desperate or… Well. It’s not important. They’re not a problem anymore, and he’s taking Dave back to the cab now.

He lets Dave cry into him for another few moments, before rubbing a hand over his back and speaking lowly that he’s going to pick him up. He pulls Dave closer, using his own chest as leverage to get an arm under Dave’s legs. He nudges Dave along, encouraging him to wrap around, until he’s got Dave’s arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

One he stands, he realizes it’s probably not the smartest way to get Dave back to the truck, but it’s too late to change it now. The way Dave squeezes and buries himself against him is enough to make him never want to let go period, let alone change positions.

He doesn’t even spare the bodies on the floor a second glance as he gets the fuck out of there. They’re probably fine, they’ll probably wake up soon, and he _definitely_ doesn’t fucking care. They got what was coming to them, even if they don’t get back up.

He gets Dave back to the truck as quickly as he can. He carries him all the way inside, and doesn’t set him down until he gets to the bed. It takes some jostling, but he manages to get Dave to let go of him and set him on the edge of the bed. He crouches in front of him, staying close, watching Dave carefully.

Dave’s face breaks his fucking heart. Blotchy and red and wet, eyes puffy, ugly green and purple marks surfacing across his cheekbone. Rage still brews in the pit of his stomach to see it, but he forces himself to stay on simmer. For Dave’s sake.

He thumbs away some tears on Dave’s good side and looks up at him. “Talk to me,” he says again. “At least to tell me you don’t want to talk to me. Say _something._ ”

-

Dave manages to pull himself together somewhat as Karkat carries him bodily back to the truck. By the time Karkat sets him down on the bed, he’s stopped blubbering at least, even if he can’t get the stupid tears to stop leaking out of his eyes. 

He tries to look away from Karkat, but the guy just keeps watching him. He’s probably regretting picking him up even more than he already was. Dave can’t even go take a bathroom break without having to get fucking rescued by him. How pathetic. 

“What do you want me to say,” Dave forces out. “I almost got killed by a couple’a drunk assholes, but you saved me. I’m a fucking useless piece of shit who can’t even take care of himself. I didn’t even--” his breath hitches on a sob, “-- _do_ anything, I was literally just taking a fuckin’ piss and they...”

He can’t get the rest of the words to come out. He hates himself so much right now. Even more than he hates the guys who attacked him, more than he hates his Bro. It burns him up inside and he clenches his fists, looking into Karkat’s face but not seeing him, blinded by the storm raging inside him. 

“I ran away from home because my brother beats the shit out of me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like, on the daily, ever since I was little, like five years old or something. He calls it training, but fuck if I know what for. If he knew-- if he saw how easily those guys fuckin’ got me, he’d--” 

He shakes his head and huffs out a sharp, cold laugh. “I don’t know why the fuck I’m telling you this, sorry. Jesus. I’m sorry in general, for like, causing trouble and makin’ you keep takin’ care of me. ‘S pretty fuckin’ lame of me, I know.”

-

Karkat isn’t expecting the apology. Or the confession. Or the tone in Dave’s voice. It’s somewhere between angry and desperate and it’s definitely something that’s been bottled up for a long time.

He can feel his heart pinching up in his chest just looking at Dave. He looks so defeated and just… pitiable.

He doesn’t know what to do.

The quiet hangs between them for a long moment. Their time together has been nothing if not a roller coaster, and Karkat isn’t exempt from the ride. His fears from just a little bit ago are being confirmed right in front of him. Dave has never known kindness. And he thinks he’s burdening Karkat by being here.

And what does that mean for the… _moment_ they shared?

All of this makes him uncertain whether or not he should offer Dave physical comfort. A hug should be okay, right? That’s just… A normal way to comfort people isn’t it? He starts to lift his arms, but he panics and backs out at the last second. Instead, he makes like he was reaching for the mini fridge the entire time, and pulls out a nearly frozen soda can.

He offers it to Dave, saying, “Put this on your eye… stop the swelling.” Another awkward silence spans the distance between them, before he adds, “And, uh… you don’t have to apologize to me. I wouldn’t have saved you if I didn’t want to. I’m kind of an asshole, remember? I wouldn’t be stringing you along like this if you were causing me too much trouble. I’d just dump you back on the side of the road.”

Uh. Ouch. Was that harsh? Or comforting? Shit, he doesn’t know. Hopefully it was reassuring. All he meant was that he’s not mad.

He sits properly on the floor by the bed and continues to look up at Dave. For some reason, he keeps talking. Maybe so he won’t have to hear Dave sniffling anymore. “Your brother won’t ever know what happened today. Fuck him, he’s in the past now. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. I guess that’s easier said than done, but uh… I think you’re doing fine. All things considered. Truck stops aren’t exactly safe for… Well. Little boys. Sorry. You’re kind of a little boy though. And like. Look at you.” He gestures at Dave, and wow, he’s getting really off track. “You’re swimming around in my clothes and shit. You probably should have gotten me to go to the bathroom with you anyway. Until we can get your clothes cleaned. Maybe I should go do that before we leave.”

-

Dave takes the cold soda can and cautiously presses it to his eye, wincing at the pressure. It does feel a little better, though. 

He feels like he should say something, thank Karkat, or keep apologizing, or-- _something_ , but he just sits there in miserable silence. Normally he can’t shut up even when it would be beneficial for him to, but right now it feels like he’s run out of words. 

Then, surprisingly, Karkat starts talking. It sounds like he’s saying he… doesn’t mind having Dave around? Or at least that he’s not about to kick Dave out of his truck yet. Dave’s not sure, it’s hard to think right now, and Karkat’s saying a lot of words. Talking about his Bro, and his... clothes? Huh? 

_”You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s.”_ And, _”I think you’re doing fine, all things considered.”_

Dave can hear the words being said, but they aren’t sinking in. They just don’t make sense. They sound like they’re meant for someone else, someone who isn’t drowning in self-loathing.

He sniffles and wipes at his face, focusing on the only part of Karkat’s whole speech that makes sense to him and ignoring the rest for now. “We can just wash my clothes tonight, ‘s fine. We’re behind schedule already, aren’t we?” 

He sets down the soda can and goes to put his shades back on, then realizes he doesn’t have them. “Shit, where are my shades?”

-

Karkat is somewhat grateful that Dave blows off his little bout of word vomit. He’s not sure why he said all that in the first place. What Dave actually says, though, is less of a relief.

“Uh… they’re kind of broken. On the floor in the bathroom.” He doesn’t want to be the one that has to say this. Dave seems weirdly attached to his shades, for whatever reason. Even if he doesn’t get it, he still feels like it’s an extra low blow after the beating Dave already took. “You can wear mine. Or we can get some new ones.”

He hopes that solution will be good enough. He doesn’t really want to stick around this rest stop any longer, just in case. Someone might have seen them coming out of that bathroom, and it won’t be long before someone stumbles across the men inside. And Dave’s not wrong about them being behind schedule, so…

He should get up. He should get back in his seat and start driving. But… something feels unfinished here. He’s not sure what it is, he can’t put his finger on it.

Never one for playing games, he decides to just _ask._ “What do you need right now? Are you okay to keep driving?”

-

“Fuck,” Dave says. His shades, the ones from John, are broken. “My friend gave me those shades,” he says sadly.

He feels like a stupid little kid for wanting to cry all over again over a pair of sunglasses, but. They were fucking special, okay? He wants to run back to the bathroom and grab them, random unconscious bodies be damned, but he can’t risk getting Karkat in trouble if those guys wake up and try to get them arrested or some shit. Or try to beat his ass again. They really should get going soon.

Karkat’s asking what he needs, but Dave has no fucking idea how to answer that. He needs a job, a place to live, a redo of his fucking childhood where he actually gets a decent guardian this time. He needs his stupid shades. But he can’t have any of that. 

“I don’t need anything. We can go,” he says.

He stands up to move to the passenger seat, biting his lip. 

“Actually--” he says hesitantly, because there is something he wants. “Can I have a kiss?”

-

As uncomfortable as this whole thing is, Karkat assumes that’s that when Dave gets up. He nearly trips over himself as he starts to stand, when Dave asks him for a kiss.

The part of him that’s been thinking about how young Dave is hesitates. _He doesn’t know how to handle kindness,_ his brain tells him. _He doesn’t understand what’s going on. You’re too old for him, you’re taking advantage of him, you’re being fucking disgraceful._

None of that stops the heat from rising in him, though, and he can’t deny that he _wants_ to do it. And even if he’s too old for Dave, maybe it’s… comforting. Yeah. He’s just trying to make Dave feel better. That’s all. Nothing immoral happening here, nothing to see.

As he makes it to his feet, he reaches for Dave like he’s been thinking about since they made it back to the cab and cradles his bruised cheek. “Sure,” he says, like he didn’t just have a whole fucking crisis about it, and bends back down to give Dave a kiss.

It’s easy, simple, like it’s something they’ve done every day for years. Like a deep breath in, after being underwater. An _it’s okay, I’ve got you._

When he pulls away, it’s only so he can press another to Dave’s cheek. Then another under his good eye. And another to his forehead. He lets himself linger there, taking a moment to let himself be _relieved._ Thank fucking god he found Dave. Who knows what would have happened to him if he didn’t go check the bathroom. He might have…

It doesn’t matter. It didn’t happen.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says softly. Slowly, he lets go of Dave. Somehow, it feels more wrong to let go, than it did to embrace him in the first place. But they need to go. He has a job to do.

He goes to sit back in his seat, totally normal, like that wasn’t the most tender fucking thing he’s ever said to anyone in his entire life, and puts his hands firmly on the wheel. His heart isn’t thumping, yours is.

“If uh… If you want my sunglasses, they should be somewhere in that duffel bag. I don’t really wear them, you can just have them.”

-

Dave’s heart pounds in his chest as Karkat leans down to give him a kiss. He closes his eyes, and for a moment he feels perfectly calm, safe and secure. Like nothing bad can ever happen to him again, as long as Karkat’s here. 

Karkat presses a few lingering kisses over his face, and he keeps his eyes closed, letting himself relax into the feeling, his skin tingling where Karkat’s lips land. He wants more than anything for Karkat to envelop him in his huge arms and to just stay like that forever.

Then Karkat pulls away and goes to sit down. Dave bites his lip, and follows him silently, sitting down in the passenger seat. 

Karkat offers him his sunglasses, and Dave roots around in the duffel bag as they pull back onto the highway. He finds the sunglasses, tucked neatly into a black glasses case, and slides them on his face. Already he feels a little more normal, a little less like he’s about to break down sobbing again. 

He clears his throat. “Thanks, Karkat. For-- everything.” 

He curls up in his seat, tugging his knees up close to his chest, the fabric of his borrowed clothing billowing out around him. For once in his shitty stupid life, he doesn’t feel like talking. 


	6. The D Word

They drive in comfortable silence for the next several hours. Which is good, because it takes a while for Karkat’s mind to stop spinning. He’s pinging back and forth between being anxious about possibly taking advantage of Dave, and being grateful that Dave is safe. To Dave’s home life. To Dave’s vague future. To what the fuck is happening between them. To whether or not it’s okay. To how good it feels. To how he personally feels.

It’s been such a long time since he’s been intimate with someone, and not just in a sex way. He hasn’t dated or even really had friends since he started working as a driver. Being with Dave for the last two days has filled him with something that he didn’t even know he needed, and now he’s scared to lose it. If what happened at the last stop didn’t scare him enough, the fact that he’s probably never going to see Dave again after tomorrow…. It makes his heart ache.

He’s going to miss Dave.

He’s going to miss the way they banter and the sound of Dave’s voice. He’s going to miss their stupid annoying little games. He’s going to miss the way Dave looks at him. He’s going to miss kissing him. He’s just…

He’s not sure if he wants to be alone again after this. How the fuck has he been doing it for this long? It’s true, that you can’t miss what you’ve never had. Ignorance is bliss. And he’s been unfortunately enlightened.

Will Dave even be okay without him? It sounds like Dave’s never been alone before, even if his companionship before was… less than desirable. And his story about what’s waiting for him in L.A. has been nothing short of questionable from the start. What if Dave can’t find somewhere to live? What if he gets cornered in an alley? Or robbed or worse? Will he eat? Will he drink himself stupid and get himself hurt?

Jesus christ. Maybe the silence isn’t doing him any favors. At least when they’re bickering, he doesn’t have to think about any of this. He shouldn’t be thinking about it, period. He can’t stop any of this from happening, and he needs to let it go. He needs to resign himself to the fact that every trip after this, for the rest of his life, will be silent too.

Karkat keeps driving, even after it gets dark. They really did get behind schedule, and he’s got hours to make up. He can’t stop until they hit Phoenix, at least, and even then they’ll probably have to start early in the morning to make it to the drop off point on time.

He needs to get as far as he can tonight, before they stop. Something tells him that tomorrow is going to be even harder than today.

When they finally stop, he’s exhausted. When he blinks, his eyes are heavy. When he speaks, his throat is dry and his words are thick in his mouth. “Let’s go wash your clothes, and then we can get some food together. How’s your face feeling?”

-

Dave spends most of the drive staring out the window in silence. He steals a few glances at Karkat from behind the shield of his new shades. He wants to memorize how Karkat looks, how he holds himself, the perma-frown on his face. How he makes Dave feel.

He thinks about tomorrow, and L.A.

What the fuck is he going to do when he gets there? Where should he tell Karkat to drop him off? At, like, a bus station or something? He has no idea what he’s doing. He probably should be using the time while they’re driving to like, look up jobs on Craigslist or something, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He desperately doesn’t want to think about what comes next for him, what his life will be like after this. He hopes it will be better than home, but there’s really no knowing for sure. 

Despite getting his face beat in and drunk-puking yesterday, his time with Karkat so far has still been one of the happiest of his life. Karkat makes him feel so _safe_. He’s never had that before, _ever_. And they have some crazy chemistry together; that _Daddy_ shit he was doing earlier--he had no idea he was even into that until he started saying it. It just felt so weirdly natural. And sucking down Karkat’s giant dick had been, well, hot as shit, but also really fucking _nice_. Like, comforting. Is that weird? It’s probably weird. 

The rest of that day’s drive feels like it takes either three days, or twenty minutes. It stretches on and on forever, as they drive through endless desert plains and fields of wheat, but Dave is uncomfortably conscious of the time ticking down until the moment when he won’t see Karkat ever again. Every time he glances at the clock on the dashboard, his heart sinks. 

They stop for the night, and Karkat speaks for the first time since the rest stop, asking about his face.

Dave touches a hand to his face, prodding at his cheek. It definitely fucking hurts still, but he can tell there’s not gonna be any permanent damage. “‘S okay,” he says. “I’ve had worse. Nothing’s broken, anyway, it’ll heal up within a couple weeks.” 

The can of soda he’d been using as an ice pack turned lukewarm hours ago, and he ended up drinking it afterward. He figured Karkat probably wouldn’t want it back with his gross sweat and probably a bit of blood on it.

“Are… are you okay? Like, is your hand ok?” he asks, guiltily realizing that he never checked in on Karkat earlier. The guy did rage-punch two randos into unconsciousness, he might have broken something if he wasn’t careful.

-

“My hand is fine,” Karkat says. He pulls it away from the wheel before Dave can see the split skin and bruising knuckles. It doesn’t hurt that much, and it was worth it, so there’s no reason to worry about it.

He grabs Dave’s disgusting pile of clothes before he can think twice about how actually fucking gross they are and slips out of the truck. He sticks close to Dave as they move around the rest stop, keeping an eye on him and shooting a sharp look at anyone who even glances in their direction. It’s less of an embarrassed reaction, though, than every other time they’ve gotten out of the truck together so far, and more of a _’Say something I swear to GOD.’_

They drop the clothes off in a laundry machine and end up eating out together at one of the picnic tables. It’s dark out by now, and late enough that most other people aren’t outside of their own cabs. It’s pretty much just them, and it’s kind of nice. Quiet. Dare say, a little bit intimate. He almost finds himself reaching across the table to hold Dave’s hand while they eat, and apparently Dave feels the same way, because by the time they’re walking back to the truck, Dave _is_ holding his hand.

And he doesn’t even feel defensive about it. It feels damn good, and he squeezes back with a confidence he’s only briefly felt with Dave. At this point, what the fuck is there to be reserved about? He _cares_ and he’s just going to let it happen. No matter how much it’s going to hurt tomorrow.

Back in the truck, he hangs Dave’s clothes on a small hook before immediately pulling Dave against himself for an equally confident kiss. He wants Dave to know that he still has him, and he’s not letting go until he’s forced to.

It’s a long kiss, warm, tender in the way he cradles Dave’s body against his own. It lingers for a long time, until his hands start to get restless and he realizes that he needs _more_ than this. “You don’t deserve all the shit that’s happened to you. You’re a good kid, and I…” He what...?

“...I’m glad I got the chance to meet you.”

-

Dave kisses, or rather, lets himself be kissed by Karkat eagerly. The older man is definitely leading the way right now, and Dave’s just happily going along for the ride. The way Karkat’s holding him is soft, gentle and caring. Almost parental. It’s… really fucking doin’ it for him. He leans into his touch, wanting more of it.

Karkat’s sweet words wash over him like a balm. He lets himself feel them, enjoy them briefly, even if he doesn’t believe they’re true. They still feel good to hear, because he knows Karkat believes them at least. 

As nice as this is, and it’s pretty goddamn nice, it’s still not _enough_. He needs something more, to distract him, to drown out the cruel voices in his head, the bad memories he sees when he closes his eyes, playing on repeat. He desperately needs to fill all his senses with _Karkat_. 

His mind flashes back to the game they were playing earlier, in the car, and well, now that he’s thought about it, he can’t _not_ do something about it.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” he says, seriously. Then, his mouth turns up in a cheeky smile. “...Daddy.”

He leans back in to kiss Karkat, nipping his lower lip, then running his tongue over it soothingly. Karkat’s so much bigger and taller than him, he has to stand on his toes to reach him. Feeling brave, he grabs Karkat’s hand and pulls it down to his already-hard cock, using Karkat’s hand to rub himself through his sweatpants. 

“You like seein’ me in your clothes?” he asks. “Personally I think I look better bare-ass naked. Do you wanna see, so you can make a judgement for yourself?”

-

The little spark that had been trying to start up in his stomach ignites all at once when Dave calls him _Daddy_ again. Dave is small against him, in a way that makes him want to pick Dave up and _claim_ him.

The bulge filling his hand comes as a shock, both because of how bold Dave is, and because he hasn’t touched it yet. He’s never touched _any_ dick that wasn’t his own, and it makes a thrill run through him. Or maybe it’s just Dave that does it for him.

He grips more firmly and looks down in Dave, eyes heavy with new lust. “I do like seeing you in my clothes. But if your performance earlier is anything to go by, I think they need to go sooner rather than later. I wouldn’t want you to ruin your good boy streak by making a mess of my clothes. And you were so good all day…”

He lets go of Dave, in favour of quickly stripping him of the baggy clothing. The glasses go last, which he plucks carefully from Dave’s face and sets aside. One pair of Dave’s shades were already shattered today, he doesn’t need to lose another.

With Dave naked, there’s nothing left to do but pull the kid against himself and kiss the fuck out of him again. He grips Dave’s ass with both hands and arousal pumps through him. He doesn’t even know what he wants to do with Dave, he just knows that he _wants it._ He needs it, he needs Dave to fall apart for him. “What kind of treat do you want, baby?” he asks. He may or may not actually give Dave what he asks for, but it’ll be a place to start.

-

Dave lets Karkat undress him, admiring the concentrated look on his face as he strips him efficiently. The gentle care Karkat takes to pull off his glasses makes his heart throb.

He’s surprised at how confident he feels about his appearance, how he’s not actually self-conscious right now. Not that he doesn’t think he’s hot shit or anything, but he just knows he’s kind of skinny and underfed-looking, plus he’s got all these scars and shit. He isn’t worried about Karkat judging him, though. Their movements together feel so natural, as if they’ve done this a hundred times before. Dave wonders if this is just how sex is, or whether it’s a specific him-and-Karkat thing. 

Karkat’s calling him _good_ , and _baby_ , kissing him, touching him, groping him. It feels fucking incredible. Dave’s head swims, he feels like he’s a rock being battered by the waves of this man who’s so much bigger than him, stronger than him. Karkat could do anything to him and he wouldn’t be able to fight back--but he knows Karkat wouldn’t hurt him, too, and that’s. That’s.  
_anything_ if it’s from Karkat. He guesses he might have _one_ fantasy that’s a little higher priority than the rest, though. He runs his hands down Karkat’s biceps, looking up at him from under his lashes. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he says. “I want you to split me in half with your huge cock, bend me over and just fuckin’ rail me please, give it to me so good you rearrange my internal organs and I gotta go to the doctor to-- wait, shit, that’s not sexy. Uh-- just please put your penis in my butthole please,” he finishes, a little less smoothly than he’d hoped. 

To make up for it, he pulls one of Karkat’s hands up to his mouth and sucks his fingers in, dragging his tongue over the fingerpads, moaning happily to have Karkat in his mouth, filling him up. “Will you fuck me, Daddy? Please?”

-

Holy shit.

Heat and arousal pulse through Karkat every time Dave says _’fuck me’_ and his cock actually jumps when Dave says _’Daddy’_ again.

He strokes his thumb across Dave’s cheek, eyes going dark as he continues to look down at the younger man. His _baby boy._ God fucking damn.

“Well… I think you’ve more than earned that, if that’s what you want…” The hand that’s not on Dave’s face drops to cup his ass and he squeezes firmly. Any worry about Dave being a boy or him not knowing what he’s doing melts away completely with the look Dave is giving him. Like he trusts him. Like there’s nowhere else in the world that he’d rather be.

“That’s right, baby,” he says, bending to give Dave another kiss. It’s dirty and penetrating, assertive, yet somehow still soft. He’s here to take care of Dave, no matter how rough his hands might get.

When he finally breaks, he shoves Dave away from him, just enough to take him by the shoulders and turn him. He steps behind Dave and pushes him down with a hand in the middle of his back, bending him over and forcing him to grab a hold of the back of the driver’s seat to keep balance. “Just like that, baby, hold on for me. I’ll give you everything you need…”

He runs both hands down Dave’s sides, over his hips, around the curve of his ass. Just… touching. Looking. He hasn’t seen Dave naked yet, and he’s damn pretty. He’s kind of flat, doesn’t have a lot of curves or squish to _grab onto_ but that’s just fine. Dave has more than enough to make up for it in other areas.

He’s forced to leave Dave long enough to grab his lube from the cabinet, and when he returns, he’s _beaming._ Dave hasn’t moved an inch, just like he told him to, and that just… Wow. That’s so fucking hot. Being obeyed like this. Dave is _good,_ he’s so good, and Karkat needs to tell him.

“You’re so fucking good for me, Dave,” he says, and his voice is nothing but a rumble. He smoothes a hand over Dave’s ass again and can’t help himself bending down to press a kiss to the base of Dave’s spine. He could eat Dave whole right now. “You’re so pretty. You deserve everything I’m about to give you.”

He pops the top on the lube, and the click of it echoes through the cab. “Are you ready?”

-

Dave shivers as Karkat positions him, bends him over, runs his hands over his hips and ass. He feels so exposed, and he thrills at the thought that Karkat can really do whatever he wants to him right now. Karkat will take care of him. 

He holds perfectly still, wanting to be good for Karkat, for his _Daddy_. His arms tremble with excitement, but he holds his position. And oh man, is he glad he does, because when Karkat comes back and tells him he’s good, he’s _pretty_ \-- well if he wasn’t hard enough to penetrate steel before, he sure as fuck is now. 

He can’t believe how good it feels to just be told what to do, and then praised for doing it. It’s like his existence has been narrowed down to the pleasure of obeying Karkat; it’s all he needs, all he wants.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I’m so ready, Daddy. Please-- please, fuck me, I’m so ready for you.” 

He resists the urge to arch his back and wiggle his ass in Karkat’s face, because he’s being _good_ , okay? He feels his asshole flutter in anticipation.

-

Dave’s enthusiastic response only fans Karkat’s fire. He can’t help another “That’s my good boy…” as he squeezes lube onto his own fingers.

He slides slick fingers between Dave’s cheeks, smearing lube all along the crack in the most satisfying way. He strokes up and down a few times, slow, teasing. He watches Dave, impressed by the fact that he manages to keep both hands on the seat like he was told, despite the way he’s shaking.

He’s… perfect.

Karkat stops at Dave’s hole and presses against the taut muscle with two fingers. It doesn’t give, against his blunt fingertips, which is exactly what he wants to happen. He wants Dave to whine for it, keep telling him how badly he wants it.

“Tight,” he comments, like it really needs to be said. He doesn’t take his eyes off Dave’s face.

-

Karkat’s fingers are pressing against the outside of Dave’s hole, and he clenches his fists with the effort of trying not to move, not to squirm down onto them. His legs shake with anticipation, his dick twitches. He can feel it leaking at the tip already… God, he wants it so bad, he _needs_ to get fucked right now.

“Please--” he whimpers. “I need you inside me, I need it, so bad, please just o-open me up-- I’ll be so good for you, I promise...”

He strains his neck to turn his head and lock eyes with Karkat. The older man’s intense gaze makes his whole body flush hot, but he doesn’t look away.

-

The eye contact ignites something in Karkat that he hasn’t felt in a long time. He wants to _push_ Dave. He wants to see just how much Dave can take, before he cries. Before he begs for Karkat to take mercy.

And, well. Maybe he doesn’t deserve that today. And maybe Karkat’s already seen just how weak Dave is, after the way he came in his pants earlier. But maybe… they could do some training.

Maybe.

He doesn’t give the thought a chance to slow him down as he sinks his first finger into Dave. The only thing that makes him tear his eyes away from Dave’s face is watching his finger disappear inside him. Fuck. He’s _hot_ inside, like he can feel Dave’s blush all the way down here.

Dave must be excited, because he can feel the kid’s muscles fluttering around him already, and that’s all the invitation he needs to slip in a second finger. He moves slowly, though, drawing it out. He pushes in, stops, pumps his fingers, pushes in some more. Scissor. Stretch. Languid, like he’s got all the time in the world. He can’t take his eyes off it.

-

Dave’s eyes close and his eyelids flutter as Karkat’s first finger penetrates him. It feels so fucking amazing… the stretch, the friction, it goes straight to his dick and he gasps. His whole body is flushed and hot, contrasting with the cool lube spreading between his cheeks. 

He can feel his hole fluttering and clenching around Karkat’s digit, and then a wider stretch as Karkat adds a second finger. He _moans_. Karkat’s going so slowly, almost lazily, and it’s fucking perfect. It’s torture. It’s ecstasy. 

The feeling of being filled up by another person is almost overwhelming. To be perfectly honest, he’s never done butt stuff with anybody before. Okay, actually he’s never done _anything_ with anybody before, with the notable exception of sucking Karkat’s dick and coming in his jeans earlier today. He’s certainly never had someone else touch him like this. Yeah, Dave Strider’s a fucking virgin, now you know. Yuck it up. 

All this to say that he’s fucked himself before on his own fingers, more than a few times, but they’re a lot fucking smaller than Karkat’s. And a lot less… skilled. How is Karkat so fucking good at this? He’s opening Dave up like a fucking pro, taking his time with him, almost like he’s fucking teasing him.

“Please,” he begs, his voice cracking. “I need more, harder, ahhhh--” He cuts himself off with another moan as a wave of arousal shudders through him.

-

Even if Karkat is fumbling a little, Dave doesn’t seem to notice. It’s been so long for him, there’s no way that he’s on his A game with this, but Dave is eating it up anyway, so it must not be too bad.

“Anything you want, baby,” he coos, and then he’s slipping a third finger in. He works it in just as slow as the first two. Pressing. Curling. Thrusting shallowly. When he feels Dave start to relax, he _spread them._ He watches with rapt interest as Dave’s ass adapts to the movement, easily stretching around him, opening up for him.

“So good for me,” he says again, and this time it sounds awed. He wonders what else he can make Dave’s body do.

He spreads his fingers again, just to see it, and then angles then down to press right into where he’s used to pressing. Where a g-spot would be, if Dave had one. He wonders if that’s where the prostate is, too. He wonders if Dave could _cum_ like this. Before he even gets to fuck him… Could he cum twice? He sure seemed ready to earlier.

So much to wonder about. So much power in his hands.

“How are you feeling, baby boy?” he asks. He wants to hear Dave tell him.

-

Oh god, oh _fuck_. 

Karkat’s huge thick fingers are spreading him open so wide. He can barely hear his words of murmured praise over the blood rushing in his ears. 

Then Karkat changes his angle, and suddenly he’s pushing right against Dave’s prostate, holy shit-- It takes everything Dave has not to reach down and grab his dick and just start pumping away, because he’s _so_ fucking close already. Like, embarrassingly close. Especially considering he already came once today.

Shit, Karkat’s asking him a question, he needs to pay attention. He shivers at _baby boy_ , a pleasant warmth blooming in his chest at being treated so gently, as if he’s precious, special, deserving of gentle kindness.

“‘S perfect--” he gasps out, “I’m-- fuck, ahh! I’m really close already, Daddy… Do you want me to cum for you?” 

He whines, his legs shaking. He wonders if Karkat will let him cum, or if he’ll make him wait. Either option sounds fucking amazing, honestly. He just wants Karkat to use him, tell him what to do. He trusts Karkat to take care of him, for tonight.

-

Karkat is _heavily_ inclined to make Dave wait. To see just how long he can hold out before he breaks. To watch him fall apart and beg and probably _cry._

But he already made Dave put it away once today. And he _did._ He stopped touching and tucked his hard little cock away, leaking into his pants, a whole ruined orgasm, just because Karkat said so.

His arousal flares again, white hot, with just the memory of it.

“Yeah, baby, you can cum,” he allows. “Cum for Daddy, show me how good you feel…”

He lets his spread fingers pull together again, and he presses down into Dave’s prostate again, rubbing, a merciless pressure. His eyes rake all over Dave’s body, drinking him in, waiting.

-

Only a few moments after Karkat tells him to cum, Dave’s eyes roll back in his head and he cries out, cumming _hard_ with just Karkat’s fingers in his ass. His hand moves automatically to wrap around his dick and he jerks himself through the end of his orgasm. Oh, fuck, it feels so good... His asshole tightens around Karkat’s fingers as he comes back to his senses, breathless, his whole body tingling and trembling.

He looks down at the mess he made all over the back of Karkat’s seat and the floor. Oops. He can’t focus on that for too long, though, because Karkat’s fingers are still inside him, and his hole is fluttering and clenching, wanting to be filled up even more. He fucks himself indulgently back onto Karkat’s hand, and moans happily.

“That was so good, Daddy, fuck, that was _perfect_ ,” he pants, turning his head to look at Karkat again. “Wh-what do you want me to do now? I’ll do anything you want, I just want to be good for you...”

He wants so badly to please Karkat. It comes from a secret, primal urge in him, something he didn’t even know he needed, but now that he’s tasted it he has to have more. 

-

Dave cumming on his fingers is a _vision_ Karkat never knew he needed, but here he fucking is. Listening to him pant and plead and call for _Daddy._ The way his knees shake and threaten to buckle right out from under him, but he stays standing anyway. All for Karkat, just waiting for his next direction. He’s sure Dave would stay standing there all night if he asked him to.

But Karkat’s not quite that cruel. He wants to push Dave, sure, but it’s not like they’ve done this before. More than anything, he just wants to _fuck Dave._

“You’re so fucking hot, Dave,” he says. “So good for me. My good little boy…” He only pulls his fingers out of Dave so he can grab him by the waist and pull him up into another searing kiss. His mind races through every possible surface in the cab that he could fuck Dave over. He wants it to be comfortable, for Dave to absolutely fucking melt under him, but where…

He mentally flips through the options, until he settles on simply taking Dave to the bed. He picks Dave up, in a sudden display of possessiveness, because Dave is _his_ right now, and he’ll hold him if he damn well wants to. He doesn’t stop kissing him as he gently lays him out on the bed, and only stops to whisper a, “Get on your knees for me.”

-

Blissed out and pliant from his orgasm, Dave lets Karkat move him however he wants, placing him softly on the bed, kissing him the whole time. He kisses back happily, Karkat tastes and smells so _good_. 

He obeys Karkat’s request quickly, scrambling up onto his knees and presenting his ass to Karkat, like a fucking dog in heat. For just a moment, he’s jerked into uncomfortable awareness of how fucking submissive he’s being, and his cheeks flush. Shouldn’t he be fighting for dominance a little bit? Isn’t he acting disgraceful as a man, as a Strider? But it just feels so good to let go and be taken care of, be told what to do.

Looking up at Karkat’s face, he sees the burning want in his eyes and all his self-consciousness melts away. Nothing matters except the experience they’re having together right now. Dave is determined to enjoy it as fully as he can. 

He wiggles his ass playfully in Karkat’s face, watching the other’s eyes on him. “I’m ready for you, Daddykat.”

-

Karkat barely has the presence of mind to grab his lube on the way to the bed, and he can’t keep his eyes off Dave the whole way down. He watches as Dave does what he’s told, dropping down onto all fours and wiggling his ass in a decidedly _childish_ manner. It’s adorable, and it’s only made even more adorable-er with the nickname Dave throws at him.

He can’t help it-- he laughs, and a warm smile spreads across his face as he absently squeezes lube into his hand. It’s charming, Dave is _charming,_ and something undeniably romantic starts to unfurl inside him. He moves on autopilot as he slicks his own cock and shifts to align himself with Dave’s hole.

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that Dave?” The word _’annoying’_ still comes to mind, but there’s no bite to it. Dave’s messy and exasperating personality is nothing short of endearing, and Karkat loves to have him around.

Maybe the suddenly soft feelings he’s having should be putting a damper on his resolve to ruin Dave, but it doesn’t. He can ruin him and take care of him at the same time, can’t he? “Daddykat,” he murmurs, still humored, as he bends himself over Dave’s body and pushes inside him.

He runs his hands all the way up Dave’s body as he fully seats himself inside his pretty little boy. With arms around Dave’s chest, he pulls him up, body to body, and slides a hand up to Dave’s chin to turn him into a kiss.

They stay just like that for a long, hot moment, with his cock buried all the way inside Dave, with his mouth absolutely devouring Dave’s. His hand slips down from Dave’s chin to his throat, wrapping around it but not squeezing. Just holding him there… Stealing his breath away with his lips.

He had been planning on pushing Dave back down, grabbing him by the hips and fucking him so hard he bruises, but… he can’t seem to let go. Dave just fits so well against him, and his hand fits so well around Dave’s throat. So he stays where he is, and finally starts to rock his hips.

-

Dave’s legs shake as Karkat pushes inside him, stretching him wide. It’s so _much_. He feels stuffed full of Karkat, and it’s fucking perfect. 

Karkat’s warm touches all over his body only make him feel more overwhelmed and satisfied. He just feels-- happy. It’s a weird feeling. He lets Karkat lift him up and gasps softly against his mouth. Karkat’s dick sits hot and thick inside him as they kiss; his big, warm hand wrapped around Dave’s throat.

Then Karkat starts to move, and Dave moans into their kiss, fuck-- it feels so fucking good! Every thrust in and out brushes against his prostate, and, holy shit, fucking himself on his fingers has _never_ felt like this. Even having Karkat’s fingers in him a minute ago, as incredible as that felt… this is just, so much better. 

His dick is hard again already, and he lets out little sounds and sighs of pleasure as the older man rocks against him, over and over. Karkat’s big body feels like a wall behind Dave, his strong arms holding him up, kisses devouring his mouth. He feels more taken care of than he’s ever felt before, and he can’t help smiling against Karkat’s mouth. He loves this so much.

-

As warm and solid as Karkat feels with Dave pressed up against him, the little tease of shallow thrusts is starting to outweigh his restraint. There’s plenty of time to cuddle after they’re done, right?

He loves the way Dave smiles into their kiss, so he allows it to continue while he winds his hand up from Dave’s throat and into his hair. He takes a fistfull of it, lingers for just a second, before pulling tight and pushing Dave back down by it. He pushes Dave’s head into the mattress and squares his other palm between Dave’s shoulder blades.

He keeps the kid pinned that way while he says, “Alright, enough… You’re cute, baby, but I’m still going to fuck the hell out of you. So be good for me and stay down…” He says _stay down_ like Dave has a choice, but he doesn’t let up from the way he’s forcing Dave down.

The angle is better, and he finally pulls out enough to get a proper thrust in. He snaps his hips into Dave with a low groan, then again and again. He starts up a steady rhythm, and even if it’s not super fast, it’s _good._ It’s exactly what Karkat wants, just indulgent enough, until it’s not.

He only lasts that way for a few minutes before he’s catching his lip between his teeth and sucking in a breath. Fuck, he needs more.

He untangles his hands from Dave’s hair to sit up and grab him by the hips. Finally, with a full range of motion, he _slams_ into Dave. “Fuck, Dave, feels so good,” he praises. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own orgasm as if Dave’s is only an afterthought. It’s not… he has a feeling Dave can cum like this, and if he can’t, Karkat will use his mouth to finish him off. Good boys get treats, after all. “You’re so good for me…”

-

One moment Karkat’s kissing him back, warm and tender and rutting slowly into him, and the next he’s pressing Dave’s face roughly against the mattress, pinning him down easily. On instinct, Dave struggles a bit, trying to free his face, but Karkat won’t let him up, and fuck if this isn’t the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him.

_I’m gonna fuck the hell out of you_ , he says, and Dave chokes out a moan into the mattress, blood rushing in his ears.

Then Karkat makes good on his word and rams his cock deep and hard into Dave, over and over, fuck! Heat pools between his legs, tingling in the base of his spine, and he’s hard again already. Oh, jesus, it feels fucking incredible. His hole stretches to accommodate Karkat’s big dick, and the ache feels so good. 

His nose and mouth are smushed into the mattress and he’s having a hard time drawing breaths, his head getting light and dizzy. The feeling of Karkat’s cock slamming into him over and over keeps him grounded, and he’s dimly aware that he’s crying out and drooling into the mattress. It’s so fucking perfect. 

After a couple minutes of that perfect bliss, ramping Dave’s arousal higher and higher, Karkat moves his hands down to Dave’s hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. Dave lifts his head to gasp a few breaths of air as Karkat fucks into him even deeper than before.

He’d said earlier that he wanted Karkat to rearrange his internal organs, and he thinks Karkat might have taken that seriously. Dave’s not fuckin’ complaining, though.

His own dick is leaking, aching to be touched again. Karkat seems to be pretty focused on just fucking him as hard as he can, so Dave reaches down to touch himself. Wrapping his hot little fist around his dick, he moans, letting Karkat’s thrusts set the pace of fucking into his own hand. Whether Karkat lets him get away with it, or punishes him for it, he’ll be happy either way.

-

It takes Karkat a moment to notice that Dave is touching himself, but when he does, something like possessiveness flares in him. It doesn’t make sense for him to be jealous of Dave’s own hand, but that’s what it feels like, and he doesn’t have the time to dwell on it before he’s grabbing Dave by both his wrists.

He holds them at Dave’s sides, like reigns, and watches as Dave falls to his chest and struggles to move. “What?” he asks, voice heavy with arousal. “My cock in your mouth was enough to make you cum untouched, but my cock in your ass isn’t?”

Karkat had been close himself, but he slows now, to a more indulgent rock of his hips. It’s still good, so fucking good, but it mellows out his impending finish and allows him to draw it out the moment.

-

He’s so close, so close-- but then Karkat snatches his hands away and scolds him, mocks him, slowing down the quick pace he'd been fucking him at.

Dave flushes with shame and arousal at the reminder of how easily he came earlier just from sucking Karkat off. He tries to move, struggling under Karkat’s firm grip, but Karkat has him locked down. It’s almost ridiculous how much stronger and bigger than Dave he is. 

“Mmmhh-- your cock in my ass is good-- I promise, I’m sorry,” he begs and whimpers. “F-fuck me hard again Daddy, please let me cum--!”

Honestly Dave’s still pretty sure he could cum at this slow pace, but Karkat doesn’t have to know that. He wants it hard, and fast, and _good_. And he wants it _now_. 

He whines and tries to fuck back onto Karkat’s cock, attempting to speed up the pace. “P-please, I didn’t mean to disobey you, I just-- hhhhaaa-- couldn't help it, it feels too g-good…”

-

“I guess I can’t blame you for feeling good…” Karkat’s eyes are dark as hell as he watches Dave struggle under him. He’s overcome with lust and _fondness_ and honestly, right now, he’s not fucking sorry for it. He _likes_ Dave, he cares about the kid, and that’s okay. It’s okay.

And it’s extremely endearing, the way Dave struggles to thrust back for him. Even like this, he still wants nothing more than to be good. Cute…

Karkat rocks forward, until his dick is as far inside Dave as it can possibly go, and then bends over again to press a hot, wet kiss to the back of Dave’s neck. “Tell me more…” he says, and it comes out on what could almost be a growl. Dave is his right now, and that means Dave’s pleasure is his, too. He wants to know exactly how Dave is feeling. “Keep talking.”

He doesn’t let go of Dave’s wrists when he sits up, but he does move. Slowly, he pulls all the way out, until just his tip is caught under the rim of Dave’s hole. He watches, loving the way their bodies look together. Dave is so small under him, they fit together perfectly.

And as he shoves his cock back inside, he thinks again that they fit _so well together._ A perfectly sized sleeve, just for Karkat.

He picks up his pace again, wanting nothing more than to cover Dave in his own cum.

-

Oh god, Karkat’s so far inside him, it feels amazing. He shivers with pleasure at Karkat’s kiss on the back of his neck.

Then Karkat asks him to keep talking, and it’s like the floodgates of his brain-to-mouth connection burst open.

“Feels so f-fuckin’ good, Karkat, uhh-- aahhh-- Your dick is s-so _big_ , it h-hurts but it’s so perfect, so hot and sexy and fuck, it keeps-- AH-- hitting that spot, oh _fuck_ , you’re stretching me open so fucking g-uhhhhh--- good! Shit fuck fuck-- _fuck_ , you're incredible, you’re so hot,” Dave babbles, his fists clenching and unclenching in the blanket, his whole body hot and flushed and overwhelmed with feeling so fucking good.

“I wanna stay like this-- hhhhfff-- _forever_ , just you fuckin’ into my ass over and over, oh god-- ahhh-- f-for all eternity, I’ll die happy man, I don’t want anything else, just k-keep fuckin’ me like this, uhhnnfff-- for a thousand billion years, Daddy-- oh, f-fuck I love calling you that, why is t-that so-- shit--- ahh-- so fucking _hot_?”

He can feel the telltale pressure of his orgasm building up as Karkat fucks into him, over and over, his legs shaking with the anticipation.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-- shit-- I’m gonna blow soon,” he moans out in warning. “D-do you want me to cum again, Daddy? I wanna-- ahhhh--! I wanna be good for you, tell me wh-what you want me to do, ahhh, _please_!”

-

Oh, Karkat wanted Dave to talk, and he fucking _gets it._

Every broken, desperate little moaned out word hits Karkat deeper and deeper. Every _Daddy_ sends him spiraling, and fuck, _he’s_ the one that’s close.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, when Dave asks him if he can cum. “Yeah, baby, go ahead. I want you to come, baby, god I want it so bad…”

He finally drops one of Dave’s wrists in order to fist one hand around Dave’s cock. He circles the head of it, and rubs it in circles, encouraging, cupped around it for the _specific_ purpose of catching as much of Dave’s cum in his hand as possible.

He fucks into Dave without much more restraint. Dave is too fucking hot, and Karkat can’t stand it any longer. He only manages to _just_ hold off his own orgasm until he can feel Dave’s body tensing up.

As his orgasm rocks him, he stays buried inside Dave, with these short, shallow thrusts. It’s _miles upon miles_ better than anything he’s done to himself in the last so many years of his life. It makes him gasp and hold in a breath, teeth grit as he finally starts to come down.

Every part of him is screaming to wipe the fuck out, cuddle up to Dave, and kiss until they fall asleep, but he holds off. There’s one more thing…

”You did so good, baby,” he coos, and it’s light on his breathlessness. “Here, clean up your mess…” He brings his handful of cum up to Dave’s lips, and just seeing it sinks into the pit of his stomach and makes him hot again.

-

Karkat not only gives him permission to cum, he grabs Dave’s dick as well and rubs little circles around the head, _fuck_. He keeps fucking Dave, hard and fast, almost frantic.

It’s only a few seconds before Dave’s toes are curling and he’s coming _hard_ into Karkat’s hand. He clenches around Karkat’s fat cock, cursing and shuddering as he rides out his orgasm. He’s glad Karkat’s holding him, one hand on his dick and the other on his wrist, as he collapses, boneless, against the bed. 

He hears Karkat gasp in his ear, feels him tense up as he comes. Dave feels hot all over again at the realization that Karkat’s cum is in him, filling him up. He wants to keep it inside him as long as he can. 

Karkat lifts up his hand to Dave’s mouth, and Dave realizes it’s full of his cum. He’s not a huge fan of tasting his own baby batter, but the way Karkat’s talking to him, telling him to _clean up his mess_ , it’s got him groaning and opening his mouth like a baby bird. He drinks it down obediently, grimacing a bit at the taste, but thrilling at the chance to be good for Karkat, to please him some more.

He cleans Karkat’s hand all over with kitten-licks, swallowing down every last drop of cum. He keeps sucking on Karkat’s fingers even after they’re clean, not wanting to stop. He’s so tired, though, his eyelids are heavy and slipping shut even as he licks and sucks at Karkat’s hand. He's not going to be able to stay awake much longer.

-

God, Dave is way too fucking good with his mouth. The way he works his tongue over Karkat’s fingers leaves Karkat flushed and aroused, in a base type of way. He’s tired, but his body is buzzing with good feelings, and he’s just… relaxed.

So relaxed. So _happy._

He pulls his softening cock out of Dave and takes his hand away so he can lean over the smaller boy and give him a kiss. It’s slow and pleasant, and _happy_ keeps echoing in his head, like he doesn’t know what to do with the information now that he has it. Maybe he doesn't _have_ to do anything about it, and he can just… feel it.

He sheds the rest of his clothes and lowers himself onto the bed beside Dave, but it’s an extremely tight fit, and he ends up with Dave pressed too hard against himself, trying to keep him from falling off. So instead, he rolls onto his back, keeps Dave on his chest, and finally pulls the blanket up over them.

He puts a hand through Dave’s hair, marinating in the comfortable silence. He’s not sure if he should say anything, or if this is fine.

He closes his eyes and wraps his arm snug around the smaller body on top of him.


	7. The Last Day

Dave’s eyelids are drooping shut by the time Karkat pulls out of him. He lets Karkat move his body around, settling them into bed. He nuzzles happily into Karkat’s chest and falls asleep almost instantly.

He sleeps solidly through the night, _again_ , seriously, what is it about sleeping near Karkat that makes him able to get a good night of shut-eye for once in his life? Normally he’s a crazy light sleeper, waking up at the smallest noise. He thinks maybe his body just feels safe around Karkat, like it knows anything out there that might try and fuck with him is gonna have to get through this beefcake first.

He wakes up from a dream about flying through space, and hanging out with a mayor, or something? It feels familiar, somehow, and he tries to grasp onto the shreds of the dream, but they slip away before he can commit them to memory.

Karkat’s body is warm under him, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. His arms are wrapped around Dave, holding him close, one of his hands softly stroking his back. Dave knows he should sit up and let Karkat know he’s awake so they can get their day started on time, but... he’s so comfy right now.... He can pretend to be asleep for a little while longer.

-

As Karkat wakes, he’s a little stiff, but somehow… more comfortable than he’s ever been. There’s a weight on his chest, and he’s filled with such a nostalgic type of warmth, he’s sure that this is how he’s been waking up every day for years.

It takes him a minute to realize that, no, this is the first time he’s ever woken up like this. At least, with Dave it is.

Holy shit, _Dave._

He doesn’t even have to put his arms around Dave to squeeze him, because they’re already there, so he squeezes. God, Dave feels way too fucking good against him, this is too good, it’s scary.

It’s scary because he doesn’t even get to enjoy it for a full minute before he realizes that… this is the last time he’s ever going to see Dave. They’ll arrive in L.A. today and--

He shoves the thought from his mind and lets one hand travel up Dave’s back. He traces fingers along his spine until they touch hair, and then he’s petting Dave softly. He’s not particularly trying to make sure it doesn’t wake Dave, but it is gentle. So gentle. He really… fucking likes Dave. Like, a lot. He wonders how long he can lay here with him before life catches up to him.

He lifts his head to press a kiss into Dave’s hair, and then flops back down. He’s still looking down at him, though. “Good morning,” he says, as quietly as he can with his gravely just-woke-up voice. Like his regular voice is much prettier.

If Dave doesn’t answer him, what a shame that would be. He would have to stay put until the kid woke up, damn.

-

Dave feels Karkat kissing the top of his head, and he somehow feels even softer and happier than he already did. A nagging voice in his head reminds him that this is the last day they have together, and he tells it to shut the fuck up. Striders don’t worry about things like _feelings_ or _getting attached to people_.

Anyway, Dave should really be more worried about trying to find a job and a place to live once he arrives in L.A. He _is_ worried about it. Ugh, so much for the happy, sleepy mood he was having.

At Karkat’s _’Good morning’_ , Dave decides it’s time to stop pretending to be asleep. He shifts slightly, lifting his face to look up at him. Karkat’s eyes are soft and crinkly, he’s not smiling or anything but his expression is fond nonetheless. Like Dave’s someone he really likes looking at. Dave’s heart clenches and he ignores it.

“Mornin’,” Dave answers, resting his chin on Karkat’s chest so he can keep looking at him, because. Well, Karkat’s really nice to look at. “Damn, did I really sleep on top of you all night? Are you okay, were you able to sleep? I wasn’t too heavy or anything, was I?”

-

Karkat rolls his neck a little, to feel for anything that might hurt. He’s a little bit stiff, but honestly, that might still be from sleeping in the driver’s seat the night before. “I’m fine,” he decides after a moment, and then looks back down at Dave. “I’m pretty sure your skinny ass would be on the floor right now if I got uncomfortable at any point. You’d be easy to just…” He slides his hands down Dave’s body, until they cradle his sides and he _lifts._ “Pick up and throw off. You know?”

He grins, with half Dave’s body suspended above him, before letting Dave back down. He keeps his hands on warm, soft skin, slowly feeling up the muscles of his back and down again. He can feel the lumps of scarring all along Dave’s body, but he tries not to focus on why they might be there. Whatever happened in Dave’s past is in the past now.

...just like Karkat is about to be.

His hands find Dave’s sides again, but this time closer up his ribs. He pulls Dave up his own body, until they’re in kissing distance, and then wraps his arms firmly around the smaller body on top of him.

He doesn’t think twice about it before kissing Dave. he shouldn’t have to think about it, right? After everything else they’ve done, a kiss is just a kiss. And he thinks it feels right, after the night they shared together.

Plus, he just wants to.

It’s a slow kiss, something warm and budding and _nice._ One hand moves up into Dave’s hair, big hands being so very gentle. Maybe like this, he can put off leaving for a little while longer.

-

Holy shit, Dave is never gonna get enough of Karkat lifting him and tossing him around like he weighs nothing. Or the way Karkat’s big, warm hands feel, rubbing all over his back and sides. Dave didn’t have morning wood when he woke up, for once, probably because he came three times yesterday, but he’s sure as fuck sporting a healthy boner now.

He kisses Karkat back, not giving a shit if either of them have morning breath, because fuck, it’s _Karkat_. He’d kiss the guy even if their mouths tasted like raw sewage. Not that they _do_ , or anything.

Anyway.

Dave melts under the way Karkat holds him so gently, taking care of Dave the same way he was when his cock was in Dave’s ass. The kissing is slow, but it feels charged, somehow, with everything they did and said to each other the night before. Every _Daddy_ and _baby_ and _fuck me_ echoes in Dave’s head, reminding him of just how thoroughly Karkat wrecked his ass last night, and how much he loved it. God, did he ever love it.

He feels kind of embarrassed for being horny again, since Karkat’s kissing him so slow and gentle, but fuck, Karkat’s just so _sexy_. Dave wasn’t sure he had a type in guys before, but he’s definitely sure about it now. If you look in the dictionary under “Dave’s type” it’s just a picture of Karkat, naked and flexing his muscles.

God dammit.

Horny is now outweighing embarrassment on Dave’s internal scales. and he whines into Karkat’s mouth, rubbing his boner up against Karkat’s front. If Karkat doesn’t want to do anything, that’s fine, Dave can go rub one out in the bathroom later or something. But he’s horny, and Karkat’s big and hot and underneath him, and he can’t _not_ try for something. It’d basically be immoral for him not to try and get some skin right now.

-

Wow, if Dave humping into his stomach isn’t one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to Karkat, he’s not sure what is. His own cock gives a lazy twitch for it, but he’s not the kid he used to be, and he’s a little slow to come back up hard.

If Dave keeps kissing on him and humping him like that, though, it’s not going to be a fucking problem.

His hands roam back down Dave’s body as he keeps kissing him back, tongue thick and lazy with sleep. His hands find Dave ass and he squeezes each cheek in both hands, spreading him, teasing. He rocks his body up, feels the muscles in his stomach flexing under Dave’s grind.

“Are you sore…?” he asks, a wandering finger slipping between Dave’s spread cheeks to run along his taint. He doesn’t _have_ to ask _‘do you want to,’_ because he already knows. There’s not a shred of awkwardness or hesitation left between them. It’s comfortable and natural and it feels so fucking good to wake up like this. It makes something deep inside him ache, and his heart throbs as he presses a kiss under Dave’s chin.

-

Dave sighs happily as Karkat’s big hands spread his cheeks apart, massaging them. He flinches slightly as Karkat’s finger rubs near his hole, the area still sensitive from last night. It’s not too bad, though, Karkat did a good job of stretching him beforehand and he shakes his head.

“‘S not that sore,” he assures him. “Just a little, but not enough to make me wanna stop, that’s for sure.”

He keeps rutting up against Karkat’s bare front, excited at how it seems to be spurring Karkat on, wanting to spend as much time touching and fucking Karkat before they go their separate ways and never see each other again. Fuck. He also wants Karkat to fuck him hard enough to put those thoughts out of his mind.

He squirms down lower so his dick is pressed up against Karkat’s. Karkat isn’t hard yet, but the look on his face tells Dave it’s definitely okay to keep going. He grinds his cock down, wanting Karkat to feel good, to get all worked up and horny like Dave already is. He gets pretty into it, grinding down, squirming all over, laying kisses on Karkat’s hairy chest and moaning as his own cock hardens at the friction.

-

“That’s what I like to hear…” Karkat can’t keep the grin off his face as he watches Dave kiss down his chest. He moves away from where Karkat can reach to finger him open again, but that’s _fine,_ because Dave more than makes it worth it by grinding their cocks together. Karkat is hard again in no time, and suddenly he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

A hundred soft scenes play in his mind. Dave riding him all sleepy and slow while they kiss until they can’t breathe. Dave spooned to his chest beside him, while he ruts into him gently and sucks at his neck, hugging him, never letting him go. He wonders how long the marks would last, if he gave them to Dave. Would Dave remember him once he was gone?

With a sigh, he sits up on his elbows and turns to look off the side of the bed. Thank god the lube is sitting there; there’s no way he was about to get up. He could have licked Dave open just as well, but they don’t have time for that.

Fuck, what the fuck, can’t he just enjoy this for three seconds without remembering that they’re on a time crunch?

He stays up on one elbow as he brings the bottle down to Dave’s ass, squeezing it directly at the top of the cleft, letting it run down over and between his cheeks. It’s messy, and he knows he overdid it when he feels it drip down onto his own thighs, but oh well. It’ll be worth it, and they already needed to shower anyway.

“You want to stay on top, or not?” he asks, giving Dave the power to choose. “I’ll let you have anything you want, after how good you were for me last night…”

-

Dave winces a little at the cold lube running down his asscheeks, but Karkat feels so warm and steady underneath him that he doesn’t mind it too much. Anyway, he knows it’s for a good cause. And that cause is getting his brains fucked out by the sexiest man he’s ever known.

He flushes all the way down to his dick as Karkat praises him again for last night. He runs his hands over Karkat’s impressive pecs, admiring them, totally not trying to distract from how flustered he just got.

“Yeah, on top sounds good,” he agrees. “Save a horse, ride a trucker, isn’t that how the saying goes?”

Not that he didn’t enjoy Karkat holding his face down and fucking him from behind last night. On the contrary, it was the best thing that’s ever happened to him in his entire fucking _life_. But… he’d kind of like to be able to see Karkat’s face this time.

So he can hold onto the memory, after it’s all over.

-

“Close enough…” Karkat agrees, with a small laugh. He can’t keep the fond look out of his eyes as he watches Dave move on top of him.

The hands moving over his body feel nostalgic and comfortable. Something like home, familiar and perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone made him smile this much. “You look good up there…” he says, because it’s _true._ Dave is fucking beautiful, all soft lines in morning light. Pretty eyes and sleep mussed hair.

Before he can even think twice about it, he’s sitting up on an elbow and grabbing Dave by the head to pull him into a crushing kiss. He licks into Dave’s mouth and lets him drown in it, not even trying to hide just how much he _needs_ Dave right now. His heart swells in a way that makes him _ache,_ and Dave isn’t nearly close enough to him right now.

He pulls Dave back down with him as he lies down again, bodies pressed together, never stopping kissing him. He slides his hands down Dave’s body again to his hips, grinding into him once before taking his own cock in hand.

He’s still kissing Dave when he thrusts his cock up between the slick mess of Dave’s thighs. He uses his hand to press his length between Dave’s cheeks, rubbing over Dave’s hole as he gives another short thrust, a tease. A tease for both of them, he wants to be inside Dave _now._

“Think you need prep again?” he asks, his words a heady slur between their lips. Not that he doesn’t like fingering Dave, but… Maybe if he goes slow enough…

-

Dave’s heart flops pathetically at Karkat’s compliment, and at the fondness evident in his voice.

He lets himself be pulled in as Karkat devours his mouth with a kiss, wet and hot and perfect, and shoves his cock up between Dave’s legs. He whines at how good it feels, not just in his body but in, like, his _feelings_ too. What the fuck is _that_ about?

He shakes his head no to the prep because he needs some Kar-cock inside him and every second they delay is practically a form of torture. He’s pretty sure it’ll be fine, anyway; Karkat worked him open real fucking good last night. And he trusts Karkat to take care of him, too. If he changes his mind and says it hurts, he knows Karkat will stop right away.

“Just-- I just want your cock _now_ , just split me open man, please...”

He tries not to sound too whiny or desperate, but he’s pretty sure he fails. Whatever. Judging by the look in Karkat’s eye and the hardness of his cock between Dave’s thighs, he’s pretty fucking eager himself.

Karkat’s head pressing between his cheeks is driving Dave insane with need, he barely restrains himself from just grabbing it and sinking down onto it himself. But he wants to be good, Karkat likes him so much when he’s good... His legs shake with wanting it, though, and he clenches his hands in the sheets.

-

Somehow, Dave’s casual begging with words like ‘dude’ and ‘man’ is almost just as hot as when Dave was crying and calling him Daddy. It’s not something he ever would have found attractive before, but everything about Dave is just… so sexy. He can call Karkat whatever he wants.

He nudges his cock up again, just to listen to the sweet way Dave whines for him. Fuck, Dave is perfect… So cute.

Another kiss, and he uses his hand to line himself up with Dave’s hole. “Tell me if it hurts, baby…” He keeps one arm wrapped around Dave’s waist as he slowly puts his dick in. It’s _so fucking good,_ first thing in the morning, with the boy he can’t get enough of.

There’s a word that lingers in his mouth, but it gets stuck in his throat, so he kisses Dave instead.

-

Dave moans happily into the kiss as Karkat enters him slowly and gently. He makes an effort to hold still until Karkat’s fully bottomed out inside him, kissing him back the whole time.

Then Dave starts moving his hips, riding up and down on Karkat’s cock. His legs are weak and clumsy from sleep and he almost collapses after a few thrusts, but he steadies himself with his hands on Karkat’s shoulders and gets into a good rhythm. He groans at the feeling of Karkat’s cock heating him up from the inside, a slow simmering burn that spreads throughout his whole body. It’s so different from last night, still incredible, though. Whereas last night was steeped in dark intensity, this morning is almost unbearably soft and sweet.

Dave feels like he’s floating through a dream, his mind still not fully awake and his body falling apart under Karkat’s soft touches. Karkat’s practically petting him all over, and it feels like the physical embodiment of praise. Karkat murmurs in his ear that he’s being so good, and Dave shivers happily.

It’s not long before he’s tensing up, gasping and clenching as he comes all over Karkat’s stomach. He takes a couple seconds to sit still and recover, then goes back to riding Karkat, shuddering with overstimulation.

“Pl-lease, fuckin’ cum inside me, Karkat-- _Daddy--_ ,” he begs. “Use me, dude, just-- ahh-- please...”

-

The way Dave rides him is clumsy and a little off beat but all the same enthusiastic and way too sweet. It pulls Karkat’s heart just as tight as it pulls his balls. He wants to make it last _forever,_ but forever isn’t actually very long before he feels wetness smearing between them and Dave is begging him to be filled with cum.

Fuuuuck.

How is he supposed to resist that? It’s not exactly the sappy love making type of talk that would usually go with a moment like this, but it’s still so amazing.

“God, Dave, how do you feel so fucking good?” He thrusts his hips up to meet the roll of Dave’s hips, and he’s gone. He fills Dave with his cum, just the way Dave asked, and he pulls Dave against him and kisses him and holds him and damn, he is on cloud fucking nine.

When he eventually comes down, he realises that not only is Dave stuffed full of cum, but he’s covered in what crust of it from last night, and Karkat himself isn’t in a much better state. They’re going to need showers, and where he is right now… he’d love nothing more than to shower with Dave. But he’s not sure if that’s a good idea, considering… it’s a truck stop.

He manages to stop kissing Dave long enough to sigh and open his eyes. “...we should get cleaned up…”

-

Dave nods, suddenly aware of how sloppy and wet he is right now with Karkat’s juices leaking out of him. Reluctantly, he sits up and lifts himself off Karkat. As Karkat’s dick slides out of him, he can feel his hole flutter and tighten, as if it’s trying to hang onto Karkat as long as possible.

He stands up, grabbing a tissue and wiping himself off as much as he can. He picks up his clothes from where they were discarded last night and gets dressed, putting his shades back on as well. It feels weird and wrong to cover his eyes now, like he’s putting a wall back up between him and Karkat.

He bites his lip. “I don’t have a towel or soap or anything. Do you have some stuff I can borrow? Shit, sorry, I know you’ve already done so much for me and bought me food, and taken care of me and everything, fuck... sorry.”

-

“Don’t you dare apologize to me right now,” Karkat says, and if his voice comes out a little hard, it’s just because he’s still tired. He follows Dave out of bed only manages to pull a pair of pants on before he’s pulling Dave into another kiss. “I think we’re a little past that at this point… right? I’ve got you.”

Another kiss. It’s hard to let Dave go to finish getting dressed. He tries not to think about the fact that Dave has no money and no… anything. And just focus on the fact that he can be there for him. Karkat can give Dave anything he needs, for now.

-

Dave melts against Karkat’s body as he kisses him again. He feels so amazing, he never wants this to end.

He nods and swallows down his apologies; Karkat’s right, they’re past that by now. Still, it’s hard for Dave to accept help from anyone, even from someone like Karkat who seems to actually like him despite everything. Dave’s friends like him, sure, but he hasn’t shown them all his ugly sides like he’s shown Karkat. He’s honestly kind of amazed that Karkat didn’t kick him out of his truck on the first day--but then again, he’s not, really, is he? Karkat’s just… a really fucking good guy.

Dave wonders with a pang if he’s ever going to see him again. Maybe they can exchange info and they can stay in touch. He’d like to at least be able to message Karkat again. But he doesn’t want Karkat to feel responsible for checking in on him and making sure he doesn’t end up homeless or whatever, which is seeming extremely fuckin’ likely. Dave’s trying not to think about that. He’ll… he’ll find something. He has to.

He stays silent for now and follows Karkat to the showers, where they go into separate stalls. He washes with the borrowed soap, using it as shampoo as well because he forgot to ask Karkat for some, then he dries off and gets dressed as quickly as he can. He knows they’re on a time crunch and he doesn’t want them to be late on his account. He stands around in the mostly-empty locker room, biting his nails and waiting for Karkat to finish showering.

-

Karkat showers. And then they go back to the truck. They get settled, and then they’re driving again. It’s normal in a way that feels too surreal to truly be normal. Karkat watches the road. Dave does his thing on his iPad. Music plays quietly through the cab.

They’re quiet.

It gives Karkat far too much time to think.

He _really_ likes Dave. It’s kind of disgusting how much he likes the kid, he can’t believe this is going to be their last day together. It makes him kind of sick.

He spends a good long time feeling sorry for himself, before he finally takes a step back and forces himself to take a different look at it.

He’s only known Dave for three days. Dave is the first person he’s been close to in any capacity for _years._ Is it possible that he was just… lonely? And Dave is convenient? Dave is _half his age,_ and they don’t even really have anything in common. He’s cute, sure, but it’s also possible that Karkat has spent the last few days in a fever dream, because he’s _never_ thought another man was cute.

A boy, not a man. A _teenager._

Jesus, he really is fucked up, isn’t he?

...it’s even more fucked up that he doesn’t believe a word of this. He cares about Dave, and there’s not really any other way around it.

Dave _is_ just a kid, though, and it’s probably for the best that he lets him go on his way. It’s a good thing that Karkat managed to help him get away from his abusive home life and into another chance at life. He deserves the chance to have a normal life; to find himself and grow and become a real person. Even if it’s obvious that he’s been lying about the fact that he has a job lined up.

 _That_ worries Karkat, even more than his own feelings do. Who cares if he’s in lo-... if he cares about the kid when Dave might not even have a place to live once he gets to town.

They’re almost there now. It’s settling under Karkat’s skin in a way that is making him at least eleven different types of uncomfortable. He can’t just… let Dave go out there empty handed. What if he gets himself hurt? What if he starves?

They should at least stop for lunch.

He pulls over, about a half hour from his actual exit. He feels sick, anxiety eating away at him as he pretends to eat his food. He puts on a good face, though. Smiling. Making small talk in a way that makes it painfully obvious Dave is freaking out, too. Fuck. He has to do something.

It can’t end like this, can it?

As he’s sitting in the cab and waiting for Dave to come back from the bathroom, he can’t sit still. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_ plays on an endless look in his head, until-

Until he has an idea that is far from fixing everything, but at least it will help him feel a _little_ better.

He peeks back out of the cab to see that Dave is still nowhere in sight. Perfect. He slips out to make one last pit stop, and he’s grateful that Dave still hasn’t gotten back by the time he returns. He unzips Dave’s backpack, picks through it for a moment to find the perfect pocket. He feels like a little bit of a creep as he rummages through literally everything Dave owns, but he thinks it’s worth it as he stashes the five hundred dollars the ATM let him withdraw.

It’s the least he can do, really, it barely made a dent in his savings. He doesn’t have anything else to spend his money on, and Dave is going to need it. It won’t even be enough for a downpayment on an apartment in LA, which suddenly makes Karkat second guess himself, but when he looks up, he can see Dave coming, so there’s no time to fix it.

It’ll be good enough, it has to be, he tells himself. At least it’s more than nothing.

When Dave takes his seat again, he’s none the wiser, so Karkat takes a calming breath and gets back on the road.

They’re on the highway again.

Ten miles.

Five miles.

One mile.

They’re pulling off the road.

When Karkat stops again, it’s in a multiplex parking lot. He can’t take Dave all the way to his drop off point, so… this is it.

He cuts the engine and they sit in silence for a long while. What is there to say? There’s a lump in his throat that cuts him off every time he thinks he’s come up with something. His face is tight, his jaw hard set, trying to keep himself together.

It’s not fair for it to hurt this much.

“...Can I call you a taxi?” he finally asks. “Do you know where you’re going?”

He wants to grab Dave, kiss him, hold him, never let him go, kiss him, kiss him, _kiss him._

The steering wheel creaks in his hands with how hard he’s gripping it.

-

As the miles go by, the knot in Dave’s stomach winds itself tighter and tighter. His hands are stiff with anxiety about his future, about what’s going to happen to him. How he’s going to find a job, or a place to live… he doesn’t have the money to even begin to afford a motel room for the night, let alone an apartment.

He draws for a while, trying to distract himself, but he can’t seem to focus. He looks down at some point and realizes he’s been sketching Karkat. Karkat’s steady hands on the steering wheel. Karkat’s face in profile. Fuck.

He’s so fucking in love with Karkat, he can’t stand it. He wants so badly to just stay with him, somehow, even though he knows it’s not possible. Even if Karkat _wanted_ him to stay--which he probably doesn’t, because face it, Dave’s annoying as shit and he knows it--there’s no way the trucking company would let him. And he and Karkat would probably get sick of each other after spending much more time together, wouldn’t they? The way they’ve been so happy together the past couple days is probably just a fluke.

It doesn’t _feel_ like a fluke, though. But Karkat will probably forget about him pretty soon. Dave’s only a stupid kid, a hitchhiker Karkat picked up on a whim. He’s nothing special.

He tries to shake off the fear and dread creeping up the back of his neck. He’s got to stop feeling sorry for himself and fuckin’ suck it up and deal with this situation he’s in. He can’t keep pretending that everything’s all hunky dory and will work itself out, because it won’t. The only person he can really count on is himself, and he’s gotta pull his shit together and fucking _survive_ , dammit. If not for himself, then at least for his friends.

Yeah, his friends. Fuck. He bites his lip.

He didn’t want to do this, but. He doesn’t really know what the fuck else to do, at this point. Dave pulls up Pesterchum and opens up a message with Rose.

He types for a long time. He tells her everything: about Bro, about leaving Houston, and being picked up by Karkat, and not having a plan aside from getting the hell away from home. He leaves out the parts about him and Karkat having mind-blowing sex, though. He hesitates for a long moment before closing his eyes and hitting send.

There’s a long pause and then Rose’s purple text starts appearing. Dave’s heart pounds as he reads.

TT: First of all, I’m proud and grateful that you felt you could reach out to me, Dave. I know we’re not always sincere with each other, and that’s part of the fun, but I need to be serious for a minute to say this.  
TT: I’m sorry to say that I had no idea what you were going through at home, this whole time. If you need to talk about that, I’m here for you, but I also understand if you don’t want to now or ever.  
TT: I wish you’d contacted me sooner. Even my well-connected mother doesn’t have the ability to find you a job or a place to live in L.A. within the next, what did you say, five hours? A little forewarning would have been preferable. She’ll do what she can, but you’re going to have to figure something out for the next day or two anyway.  
TT: Do you need to borrow any money? I can Paypal you something to hold you over until you get a job. I don’t want you to have to sleep on the street.  
TT: I can’t believe you actually hitchhiked the whole way, too, Jesus, Dave. You could have been seriously hurt. I’m glad you finally contacted me, but  
TT: Well.  
TT: I’m just glad you’re okay.  
TT: …  
TT: Dave?

Dave surreptitiously wipes his eyes under his shades, grateful that Karkat’s focus is on the road.

TG: fuck rose  
TG: i love you so fuckin much i hope you know that  
TG: i  
TG: yeah  
TG: im flat fuckin broke right now cant even afford a sandwich  
TG: karkats been buyin all my food for me this whole time hes just a really great guy youd like him a lot  
TG: dont know how im ever gonna thank him for this but ill figure something out one day  
TG: anyway yeah  
TG: fuck i hate that i even have to be asking you to help me like this im sorry youre the fuckin best okay  
TG: …  
TG: heres my paypal

They spend the next few hours messaging back and forth and figuring out last minute details. Rose is able to book Dave a cheap room at the YMCA, and she sends him several hundred dollars to cover food and a couple days’ rent. He thanks her so many times she actually gets annoyed with him, which leads them back to bickering like normal, to both of their relief.

By the time he and Karkat stop for lunch, a few miles off from L.A., he doesn’t have a job still, but he’s far better off than he was this morning. His stomach still prickles with uncomfortable shame from having to ask for help, but he knows he’s doing the right thing. He knows his friends wouldn’t want him to be homeless. Still, he can hear Bro’s voice telling him he’s a disgrace, not fit to be called a Strider or even a man. He grits his teeth and tells the voice to fuck right off, and tries to eat his food without letting his hands shake.

All too soon, Karkat’s pulling into a parking lot and Dave’s heart sinks into his stomach. This is it. They sit in horrible silence, neither of them seeming to know what to say. He wants to curl up into Karkat’s lap, be held by him, touch him, kiss him forever and ever.

Finally Karkat breaks the silence, asking where Dave’s going to go, whether he needs a cab.

“Uh, I’m gonna stay at the Y for a couple days until I can find a-- I mean, until my _cousin’s_ place is ready for me to move in.” He scrambles to remember the details of the lie he told Karkat on their first day. It seems so long ago, now. “I can take a bus there, I looked it up on google maps and it’s not far from here. So yeah. Um. Thank you, for offering though. And for, like... fuck. _Everything._ ”

They’re both facing forward, not looking at each other. This is fucking unbearable. He swallows down the ‘I love you’ that’s trying to come out. Fuck. Why does he feel so wrong about leaving Karkat? He’s not gonna fucking cry. This is for the best, he can’t keep being a burden forever. He has to get his fuckin life together.

He takes a deep breath and turns toward Karkat. “Can I kiss you one more time?”

-

“God, _please,_ yes,” Karkat says, and then Dave is in his arms before he can even think to make his body move. The tension that’s been building between them all day finally snaps as he hugs Dave tight against his body in the middle of the cab and kisses him like he never wants to kiss anyone else.

Relief washes over him, through him, fills him up so fucking beautifully, until it fogs and settles into an ache. It stops feeling sweet and starts feeling bitter, and he has no choice but to face it. This is the last one, this is it…

Comfort turns rancid as he realizes that he needs to pull away. He hesitates, his lips still touching Dave’s, but they’re not moving anymore. Slowly, he pulls away, his hands trailing down Dave’s arms until they’re gone and his heart breaks.

...his heart breaks...

There’s no stopping it. He has to let Dave go.

He’s numb as he drives away. Numb, as he sits and lets his employer unload his truck. Numb as he checks into his motel for the night. Numb, as he realizes he could have spent one more night with Dave, but it only would have hurt that much more to say goodbye. He might as well get used to it now, since he’ll be alone again every night from now on.

He doesn’t sleep.

It takes him eleven coffees to make it through the next day, and an entire six pack isn't enough to make it through the next night. The drive home is more painfully silent than it’s ever been, and when he’s finally lying in his own bed again, that’s when he lets it happen. Without his job to focus on, there’s nothing to distract him, and he cries.

After spending so long alone, how could he let himself fall for someone so hard in such a short period of time? It’s stupid. It’s awful. It’s unfair. How could the universe drop someone so perfect right into his lap and then rip him away again?

The answer? It’s not real. He’s just a lonely dude and someone showed him the tiniest bit of attention and his pathetic romantic little heart couldn’t take it, so he fell in too deep.

That’s all. He’ll forget about Dave in a week. He’ll be fine.

Well, a week goes by. He doesn’t forget about Dave.

Another week. Two. He doesn’t forget. He listens to Dave’s Spotify playlist on repeat and thinks about how Dave’s body felt on top of him when they woke up together and kissed and made love and the last time they kissed and it hurts.

It hurts and it doesn’t stop hurting.

Every week, he’s in town again. The same route he always drives, it’s never going to change. Why did it never occur to him that he could… see Dave again? Once a week, he stays in the same motel, in the same city, so why the fuck is he hurting himself like this?

L.A. is a big city, though. There’s no telling where Dave could be, or if he’s even still in town. He doesn’t know how to contact Dave, or if Dave would even want to meet him. What if Dave realized he’s better off without him? Karkat’s so much older than him, after all, and he’s not much of a romantic partner, if he can go a month without trying to see him…

God, romantic partners, he’s getting ahead of himself.

He’s managed to stop himself from looking Dave up so far, so he’s a little shocked by how easy it is when he googles Dave’s name. His Twitter account is just… right there, huh. And Karkat doesn’t have a Twitter, but he can still see Dave’s, and it only takes about sixty seconds of digging to find Dave’s chumhandle.

His heart flutters in his chest and makes his skin buzz when he types the handle into his phone and it actually connects.

Okay.

Okay.

Fuck, he can do this.

He can do this.

He stares at the screen for a long time before coming up with anything to say. Every word comes out slow, fingers stilling on his keyboard as his heart hammers in his chest.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: HEY DAVE.  
CG: IT’S KARKAT.  
CG: HOW’S IT GOING?

How’s it going??? Could he be any more casual and unfeeling about this? How is Dave supposed to know that he’s been thinking about him every night for a month straight? Does he even want Dave to know? What if that makes him look desperate? Jesus, this was a bad idea, Dave probably doesn’t even want to talk to him. Shit.

-

Dave launches into Karkat’s arms to kiss him, trying to soak up every last detail about him. The way he tastes, smells, the feel of his lips, how he holds Dave so close and tight… like he actually cares about Dave. He kisses and kisses Karkat until Karkat stops kissing back and lets him go.

Dave suddenly can’t look at him. He knows he has to get out of there before he starts bawling like a baby. He grabs his backpack, full of the only possessions he owns in this world, and steps out of the cab.

Karkat drives away, and it feels like a punch to the gut. Dave bites his lip to keep from crying and he can taste blood but he doesn’t care. He can’t fuckin’ fall apart over this. Not after everything he’s been through to get here, to stay alive.

He steels his face and starts walking to the bus stop.

Figuring out how to navigate the bus system at least takes his mind off of Karkat and the aching lump in his throat. He checks into his room at the Y, and sits on the bed to unpack his meager possessions.

While unpacking, he contemplates whether he should spend Rose’s money on food tonight, or save it in case he needs it more later. Then he feels a lump in one of the pockets of his backpack, and pauses, unzipping it, and-- holy shit. He counts the bills. There’s five hundred dollars in twenties in here. How in the fuck did this get--

Oh.

Dave’s stomach lurches and he chokes down a sob. He clutches the money in his hand like it’s a piece of Karkat. Even after leaving, the guy’s still trying to take care of him.

He automatically grabs his phone to text Karkat and thank him, then remembers he doesn’t have any way to contact him.

Fuck.

It’s probably for the best, though. Karkat must be glad to be rid of him and not have to watch out for his dumb crybaby ass anymore. If Dave had a way to message him he’d literally never stop pestering him and then Karkat would eventually block him, and that would hurt more than never being able to talk to him at all, right?

He tucks the money carefully into his wallet, wipes his eyes, and says one more silent thank you to Karkat.

After a couple days, Rose’s mom gets him a job scrubbing toilets at a third-rate film studio. It’s shit work (literally) and it pays only five cents an hour over the minimum wage. But it’s enough to afford the tiny, cramped closet of a room he’s renting in a derelict house in a shady part of downtown. And there’s the possibility that he’ll be able to move upward in the company if he works hard and gets lucky.

He’s clocking out of work one day after about a month in L.A., and his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, expecting it to be John or Rose or Jade, but an unfamiliar chumhandle flashes on the screen.

Dave’s heart races as he reads the message, and he has to take a moment to rub his eyes and make sure he’s not hallucinating. He starts typing back without thinking, letting the words fly from his fingers, his face breaking into a grin.

TG: holy shit karkat  
TG: i mean hey  
TG: jesus fuck i didnt expect to hear from you  
TG: give me a second man my pulse is through the fuckin roof

He spends the bus ride home messaging back and forth with Karkat, a smile on his lips the whole time.

One week later, he stands in a Wal-mart parking lot, holding a bag packed for the weekend. He’s trying to look busy on his phone but he ruins the illusion by anxiously craning his neck to look every time a truck pulls into the lot.

Finally, one truck pulls up on the curb next to him.

The man who steps out of it is looking at Dave like he’s the only person on earth. Dave runs toward him, falling into his arms, and Karkat laughs as Dave stands on his toes to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! this fic is me and br0jangles' baby and i am so sad to let it go but it was all hells of rewarding to write together <3 i hope you enjoyed, come say hi on discord if you want! we wrote this in the [strilondes rp server](https://discord.gg/y2b9Eu2), come by to lurk or find someone to rp with!

**Author's Note:**

> Karkat: [@br0jangles](https://twitter.com/br0jangles)  
> Dave: [@AllDaveKat](https://twitter.com/alldavekat)  
> 


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